


No Place Like Bone

by Alennyah



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Drama, Evil Stepfather, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Rape, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reverse Harem, Romance, Smut, Terrible Ex boyfriend, Violence, all the hard emotions, and tons of smut, mentions of trauma, ok tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alennyah/pseuds/Alennyah
Summary: You go to Grillby's to drink away your sorrows after attending your mother's and twin sibling's funeral. While there, you meet the skeleton monster Sans, who keeps you company. You get to talking, and he learns of the troubles you've been having. After an altercation with your ex, Sans offers to let you stay at his place, as things back home aren't the best for you. Little did you think the time you spend with Sans and his brother Papyrus would become the best time you've had in many years. And they, along with their many cousins, would become the most important people in your life.
Relationships: Papyrus (Underswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (underfell)/reader, Sans (Underfell)/Reader, Sans (Underswap)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 60
Kudos: 206





	1. Whiskey and A New Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my new fanfiction. This work is my second piece, and my first with a Readz as the mc. I've been really inspired lately by A Skele-ton of Fun and When Darkness Falls, both by Lollipopkitten93. I hope you enjoy the read and thanks again for stopping by!
> 
> -Alen

You rub your head, the pounding headache growing behind your eyes. Sighing, you stare into empty glass set in front of you, knowing you shouldn’t have any more, but needing it so badly. This week had been shit already. And it was only Thursday. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, still holding your head, the tears stinging the corner of your eyes. You rub them furiously, not wanting to start that shit here. Not with other’s starting to fill the bar. 

You don’t notice the stool beside you at the bar get taken by someone until they call Grillby over. Looking up, you peek at the newcomer, surprised to see a skeleton sitting there, a light blue hoodie pulled over his head as he looks to Grillby. He pushes it off his skull, revealing the near blinding white bone beneath the hood. 

You return your gaze your glass, not wanting to get caught staring at the skeleton. It was rude after all. Misery struck the back of your throat and you raise your glass for Grillby to fill once more, not meeting the fire elemental’s look. You feel the concern there and ignore it, not wanting to think about anything at the moment. 

Downing half of it with a toss of your head, you groan, welcoming the burn of the alcohol. Sighing, you set it down on the counter, your head resting in your hands again. The tears fall now, and you don’t try to stop them. You’ve been fighting them back since this Monday when everything went to hell in a handbasket.

You miss them. So much it hurts to even think about them. You sniffle lightly, brushing at your tears, gazing into the half-full cup. _I wish you were here,_ you think miserably.

“Here ya are,” Grillby says to the skeleton beside you. You glance over again and wonder why exactly the bartender has placed a ketchup bottle in front of them. Did they do things differently because they were a monster? You decide you don’t care enough to think on it anymore and finish the other half of your whisky, the tears continuing to fall.

A throat clearing beside you makes you jump, your gaze flying to the skeleton. _How … how did they even do that? He doesn’t have a throat to clear_ , you think. You make eye contact with him and blink, not expecting him to be staring at you.

“Heya, couldn’t help but notice you drinking like something’s troublin’ ya,” he says, a permagrin showcasing his teeth. He lifts the ketchup bottle to his mouth and squeezes it.

You stare at him, surprised he’s talking to you. “Uh, hi,” you reply, turning and quickly wiping the tears wetting your cheeks. Sniffing again, you glance at him once more, gripping your empty glass.

“Hi, I’m Sans, Sans the skeleton,” he says, a chuckle in his tone. 

You smile weakly. “Hello,” you repeat, your finger running along the rim of the glass. “I’m (Y/n). Nice to meet you,” you say. You don’t mind speaking with him, as Mom always taught you to be courteous to others, no matter what they may look like.

He extends a bony hand to you. You take it and shake it. The sound of a deflating balloon fills the silence between you, startling you. Looking down at his hand closer, you snicker weakly. There’s a small whoopie cushion sandwiched between your’s and Sans’ hands.

“Heh! Ah, man, the look on your face!” Sans cries, throwing his head back and laughing hysterically. “It was priceless!”

Despite yourself you chuckle, dropping his hand and returning to gripping your glass, considering filling it one final time before you leave. “That was pretty _humerous_ ,” you snicker.

Sans’ laughter pauses for half a second before it resumes, louder than ever. You feel the eyes of the other patrons and slouch in your chair, not really wanting the attention. But, at this point, there’s enough alcohol in your system, you quickly push the feeling aside. 

“Oh, stars kid! That was great!” he exclaims, rubbing at the tears that have formed in the corner of his eye sockets. 

“What, am I _tickling_ your funny bone?” you question innocently.

“Heh ha ha!” Sans snorts, leaning further back. Before you can react, he topples off the stool, the crash silencing the entire bar.

“Sans!” you cry, getting up, the world spinning slightly at the sudden change in altitude. Shaking the feeling off, you kneel beside him, reaching for him as his laughter continues.

“Nah, it’s all good kiddo. I’m fine,” he says, sitting up, clutching his ribs as he tries to stop laughing. “Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

You drop your hand, watching him get to his feet. He looks down at you, the smile still stretched across his skull. “You sure you’re all right?” you ask, slowly getting back up and sitting on your stool as Sans does the same. “That was quite the tumble you took.”

“Heh, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a hard head,” he smirks, reaching for his ketchup bottle again and taking another drink from it. 

“Well, if you say so,” you mutter, looking back to your empty cup. _Fuck it. I’m going to have one more before I go,_ you think. You glance to Grillby and lift your glass. “Could I have one more, please?” you ask, smiling slightly. You feel better than you have in days. Even if you know it’s a mixture of the booze and bad punning making you feel that way. Who knows the next time you’ll feel any sense of happiness. Not when you have your stepfather waiting for you back home.

“You sure? You’ve had quite a few already,” Grillby says.

You lower the glass, sighing. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks anyway.” You feel the skeleton’s eyelights on you and turn to face him wondering why he’s looking at you.

“Got something on your mind?” he wonders, taking another swig of ketchup.

You shrug. “Not really,” you mutter, leaning forward onto the counter and resting your head on your arms. 

“Hmm, not really all that convincing,” he states.

You breathe out in exasperation. You really don’t want to have this conversation with a stranger. “It’s-it’s been a long week,” you reply, your hands clasping together. You don’t want to think about the funeral, or your stepfather. 

“Yeah, I know that feeling. It’s been a long one for me too,” Sans states. “Wanna talk about it?” 

You sigh softly, feeling the skeleton’s gaze on you. You look down at your attire, shivering at the sight of the cardigan, suit pants and tank top. All of them black. Including your flats. The tears return and you try to stop them, but can’t. Sniffling, you hide your face into the counter.

A gentle hand on your shoulder makes you look up at Sans, blinking at the fresh flow of tears. “Hey, kid, I know we just met, but, ya know, talking about it might help,” he says gently.

You stare into his white eyelights and a part of you feels he would understand if you told him, at least some of what was bothering you. “I-I just came back from a funeral,” you whisper, tears falling harder.

The hand on your shoulder rubs you gently as you begin to sob lightly. “I’m sorry for your loss (Y/n). It’s never easy losing someone,” he whispers. You can hear the sympathy in his words and have the feeling he’s experienced the same pain as you.

“Th-Thank you Sans,” you finally manage to murmur after a time of quietly crying. “I don’t mean to break down in front of you like this. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothin’ for ya to apologize for. I can only imagine it’s been a terrible week for ya.” His hand leaves your back as you slowly sit up, taking the kleenex Sans offers you. 

Dabbing your eyes, you weakly laugh. “Heh, yeah. It’s been one hell of a week,” you mutter. Blowing your nose, you crumple the kleenex. You notice Grillby is away from the counter helping patrons, leaving you alone with the skeleton. It made you glad he wasn’t there to hear you crying like a baby. “Just glad there’s alcohol to drown my sorrows in,” you whisper, staring at the empty glass, wishing you’d pushed the matter of getting it refilled.

“Well, having a friend is better than alcohol, if you ask me,” Sans states.

You raise a brow at him. “Friend? We just met,” you remark.

He shrugs a shoulder. “Heh. That doesn’t matter. I can tell you’re a good kid,” he says.

You blink, a light blush creeping onto your face. “I-I’m … no,” you mutter, looking away from him. How could you be a good person? When it was your fault the three of them were dead? The tears threaten to make a reappearance, but you bite the inside of your cheek to keep them at bay. 

Sans doesn’t comment, but you hear him sigh. You know you’re being a burden. You know you’re dragging the atmosphere down with all this moping. Lifting your head again with determination you meet his gaze again, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to contradict you. I think I’m more drunk than I thought. I should probably-,” you begin before pausing when the door to the bar opens and three men walk in, their loud entrance drawing your attention.

Your face pales and you quickly turn toward the counter, slouching forward, hoping they didn’t notice you. How had they known to look for you here? Did they see your car parked out front?

“(Y/n)? Are you all right?” Sans asks, sounding concerned.

Before you can answer, the three men shout your name over the quiet conversation of the bar, silencing everyone again. You flinch, knowing things are going to get bad, and fast. You’d hoped they wouldn’t find you so soon, but perhaps it was better to just get this over with.

“Hey, (Y/n), did you hear me?” Antonio snaps, grabbing your shoulder and whirling you around to face him.

You flinch at the anger in his voice, stilling your urge to rip your shoulder out from under his hand. There are three of them, and only one of you. There’s no getting out of what they’re going to do. “Yes, Tony, I heard you,” you answer quickly, praying he’ll let you go soon. You hate the feel of his hand on you. 

“Then why the hell didn’t you answer me the first time?” he snarls, his grip becoming harsher, making you visibly wince despite yourself.

“I-I was talking to my friend,” you reply, glancing to Sans. You notice his smile isn’t quite as cheery any more. It looks … angry.

Tony’s gaze shifts to Sans and a sneer mars his handsome face, well, what you once thought was handsome. “What, this smiley skeleton? Are you really that desperate to make friends?” he laughs, shaking his head.

“Why even associate with a monster like him?” Bob wonders, crossing his arms as he glares down at the two of you.

Derek chuckles at the insults and you glare at the three of them, not liking the direction this conversation is going. You hate when people insult others because of what they are. They were born that way, they couldn’t help they looked different from humans.

“Heh, well, I can assure you I can show (Y/n) a better time than any of you,” Sans says, his words harsher than any he’s said to you.

You blush, looking away from everyone’s gaze. Tony is not going to like what Sans said. The grip on your shoulder tightens further, showcasing Antonio’s fury. 

“Really? I didn’t peg you for a monster fucker,” Tony growls, his other hand coming to your chin and lifting it up so you are looking into his chocolate brown eyes. “You shouldn’t have upped and left me, darling,” he purrs.

You’re stomach flips at his voice, disgust twisting your guts, almost making you puke right on him. “You know exactly why I dumped you,” you snarl, wrenching out of his hold. 

“Don’t get full of yourself, bitch. I’m the one who dumped you,” he whispers darkly, his eyes flashing with hate. He leans down, getting in your face, his hot breath making you turn away from him.

“Oh? Well that goes against what ya just set there, bud,” Sans states, standing to the same height as Antonio. You hadn’t realized Sans was that tall.

“Buzz off monster. This doesn’t concern you,” Bob says, moving to stand in front of Tony, almost knocking Sans over.

Terror constricts your heart as you see where this is headed. You slide off the stool and move to Tony, even though you want nothing more to be on the other side of the world from him at this point. You know why he’s here.

“T-Tony, please, leave Sans out of this,” you plead, reaching for his arm and gently rubbing it, trying to calm him down like you used to. 

He shoves you away. With a gasp, you fall against the counter, not expecting to be pushed. Landing with a loud thud on your ass, you blink, staring up at Tony in shock. “Don’t touch me, monster fucker!” he yells, making to take a step toward you.

Grillby steps out from behind the counter, his flames blazing brighter than you’ve ever seen them. “That’s enough,” he says, his voice brokering for no comment from anyone. “The three of you will leave now,” he adds.

“And why the hell should we listen to you?” Derek says. 

You watch the five standing above you, your heart hammering. Wanting to stop all of this, but not knowing how, you just sit there, dumbfounded.

“Because this is my bar, and when I tell a customer to leave, they better leave before I call the police,” Grillby replies.

“And I’m not going to stand around while my friend is getting harassed,” Sans says softly, stepping in front of you, blocking your view of Tony. A part of you wants to pull him away from your ex, the other doesn’t want to see Antonio any more.

“Fine! Have the bitch for all I care. She’s not worth the trouble,” Tony growls. He leans around Sans, meeting your gaze, glaring. “Your father sends his regards and looks forward to seeing you later,” he smirks. You can’t stop the tremble in your hands at his words, thoughts of your stepfather making you further sick to your stomach. You hold a hand to your mouth to stop from puking, tears reappearing in your eyes.

The three of them turn and leave, laughing loudly, throwing insulting names at everyone in the bar. You blush in shame, hiding your face in your hands, sobbing again.

“Have fun with the monster fucker!” Tony shouts one last insult before the door slams shut behind them.

A warm hand on one shoulder and a gentle grip on your upper arm has your hands dropping from your face to see who is touching you. Grillby is crouched down on your left side while Sans leans over you on the right. His smile has returned, though it’s strained.

“I’m- I’m so sorry about them,” you whisper, letting the two of them help you stand back up and return to your stool.

“Darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” Grillby says gently, stepping around the counter and grabbing a bottle of the whiskey you were drinking. He pours you a glass and sets it in front of you without a word.

“Exactly. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s those three bastards,” Sans growls, taking his place in the stool beside you and squeezing a large amount of ketchup into his mouth.

You look to the full glass and take it into your hands. Taking a drink, you wish the burn would sear the memory of Tony from your mind. It’d taken you months just to sleep almost all the way through the night without the nightmares of what he’d done to you haunting you. “Good luck getting them to ever admit to doing something wrong,” you mutter. You take another long swig of the whiskey, and sigh as you set the glass down. “Thank you Grillby,” you smile weakly at him.

“Any time, darling,” he replies, smiling back. 

Silence settles between you and Sans as Grillby leaves the bar for a moment again to check on his other customers. You’re glad for the silence, needing it to calm down. Bile still threatens to bring the alcohol back up, but you manage to keep it under control. 

As you take the last drink from your glass, Grillby has returned to counter. You wave him over, asking for your bill. You need to get going as you have work in the morning. Or would if you hadn’t been fired. 

“You heading out?” Sans questions, one eye socket open to look at you.

“Yeah, I have work in the late morning,” you reply, taking the bill from Grillby and looking at it. You smile at him. “Can I pay with a card?” you ask.

“Of course,” Grillby says. 

Reaching into the pocket of your black pants, you pull out your little green wallet, snapping it open. Pulling out the little red debit card, you hand it to Grillby. “Here.”

He takes it with a thanks and turns to the register. Sans clears his throat drawing your attention to him.

“Ya gonna be all right?” he asks gently.

You manage a small smile and nod. “I’ve dealt with his shit before. The talk about calling the police probably scared him off, for now,” you say, more to try and reassure yourself than Sans. Derek was an officer which meant anything Tony or Bob did was never reported to the authorities. 

“Let’s hope it did,” you hear Sans mutter as Grillby returns, the smile gone from his features.

“Sorry darling, it was declined,” Grillby says, handing your card back.

You blink, staring at the card, your mind racing. Whipping out your phone, you bring up your bank app. It doesn’t connect. Silently cursing, you connect to the wifi in the bar, and quickly check your account. You’re locked out of it and unable to access it. You feel the panic settling in your chest and need to breathe, to be alone for a moment before you break down in front of them again. “I’m sorry. I need to check something,” you say, getting to your feet and heading for the restroom. You hear Sans call your name but don’t answer. You can’t answer him as breathing has become difficult.

Slamming the door shut behind you and locking it, you sink to the floor, the near constant tears you’ve shed tonight falling again. _Why, why did he do this tonight? Is he punishing me for not coming home right away?_ you think, leaning your head back and staring up at the ceiling. _What am I going to do without access to my money? I-I can’t go back. Not without Mom and the twins there._

Shuddering away from the thought of what will happen if you go home, you lean your head forward, bringing your knees up to rest your forehead on them. The sobs escape your lips and you cover your mouth, suppressing the crying, having learned long ago it was better to cry silently then to make noise.

You don’t know how long you sit there, crying in self loathing. You should have seen this coming. With Mom and the twins gone, there’s only you standing in the way of what your stepfather wants. 

Rubbing at your eyes, trying to wipe the tears away, you catch sight of your mother’s ring, the ruby heart set in gold with two diamonds on either side glinting in the fluorescent light. A thought strikes you, and your stomach twists at what you know you have to do.

 _Not like there’s anything else I can use. I can’t stay here for much longer. Who knows when Tony and his buddies will return_ , you realize. Standing, you stop in front of the mirror, wincing at the sight of your red eyes and puffy cheeks. You’ve been crying way too much tonight. 

Turning the water on, you wash your face using the cold water. Shaking your hands dry, you reach for the paper towels, wiping your face. Turning from the sight of your reflection, you open the door and step out into the bar, heading for the counter. 

Sans sees you and his permagrin widens. You return the smile, though it’s a bit forced. “Ya all right?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you say, stopping beside him and waving Grillby over. Before either of them can say anything, you pull your mother’s ring from your finger and place it on the counter. “Sorry, but this is all I have at the moment to pay you Grillby.”

He looks down at the ring, his eyes widening at the sight of the glinting ruby and diamonds. “I-,” he starts but you cut him off with a wave. 

“Don’t worry, it’s real. And it’s not a big deal giving it to you,” you lie, holding the smile on your lips. You feel Sans’ eyes burning a hole in your back. You face him, and nod to him. “Thanks for keeping me company Sans. It was nice meeting you,” you state.

Tears are welling up in your eyes again as you glance down at the ring one last time before waving goodbye to them. Rubbing your arm as you make for the door, you hear Sans call your name, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. The door swings shut behind you, and you shiver at the cool autumn wind, heading for your car, your vision blurring again as the tears return.

“(Y/n),” Tony’s voice calls out to you making you look up, your stomach dropping. He’s standing beside your little red car, leaning against the passenger door. “You finally come to your senses and decide to leave that smiley skeleton?” he wonders, straightening and coming toward you.

You don’t think about what you do next. You just panic. Everything that’s happened to you spurring you into running from him and his buddies. Thank God you were wearing flats.

“Hey! Get back here, you little bitch!” Derek shouts. 

You hear three pairs of feet running after you and know you’re fucked when they catch up. The whiskey has done nothing good for you, only made you feel as though you’re going to puke as you push yourself faster. 

“You know you can’t out run us,” Tony sing-songs, his voice the closest to you.

Desperately, you look around and catch sight of an alley. Maybe you can ditch them if you cut across someone’s back yard. You make a sharp left turn and sprint down the alley, your legs aching and your lungs burning.

“Shit,” you curse. It’s a dead end. Skidding to a halt in front of the high fence, you make to jump it when hands grab you, one snaking around your middle, the other clamping a hand over your mouth. You squirm, trying to break free until the arm around your waist squeezes harder, making you gasp in pain.

Looking up, you see Tony has you in his arms. You pant heavily, trying to catch your breath while his hand is covering both your mouth and nose. Feeling light headed, you sag in his grip. There’s nothing you can do now that he has you.

Whipping you around, Antonio glares at you, his chocolate eyes dark with anger. “I told you your dad was waiting for you. Why the hell were you hanging out in a dump like that?”

You say nothing in answer, knowing it will only lead to pain if you talk back.

“Answer him, slut,” Bob snaps, taking a step toward you.

You flinch, your eyes moving between the three of them, wondering who will make the first move.

Tony shoves you, hard. With a surprised gasp, you fall back, your left shoulder striking the fence before you land on the compacted dirt of the alley. “You’re such a waste of my time. Do you know how long it took us to find you after the funeral?” he snarls, crouching in front of you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to keep eye contact with him.

You shake your head before you can stop yourself. You don’t want to know how long they have been out searching for you. Hours more than likely.

Tony tilts your face one way, then the other without saying anything, an evil grin morphing his handsome face to something right from your nightmares. Your heart constricts in fear and you feel yourself tremble.

“That’s right, you know exactly what’s going to happen to you, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning closer, his smile growing wider.

“P-Please,” you whimper. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll go back with you now. Just-just don’t do it in front of them,” you plead.

“Not like they haven’t seen you before, bitch,” Tony sneers. He looks to Bob and Derek. “What say you boys? In the mood for some fun?” he wonders.

“Heh, yeah, I don’t think so,” Sans’ voice says from behind Tony.

The four of you look to the skeleton monster. He’s leaning against the fence a few feet from you, watching everything, his left eyelight glowing a light blue. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? This doesn’t concern you, monster,” Tony snaps, standing upright and turning to face Sans.

Sans ignores Antonio and looks to you, his eyelight glowing brighter. “You all right kiddo?” he asks you.

Before you can answer, Bob rushes toward the skeleton, his switchblade in hand. “You better back the fuck off,” he growls.

Sans lazily lifts a hand, a blue aura suddenly appearing. Bob yells as he begins to glow. You watch in frightened silence as he’s lifted by Sans’ magic and flung against the wall. “Don’t try and play games with me, pal,” Sans snarls, no longer leaning against the wall. His eyelights have disappeared as he turns his skull to look at Tony and Derek. “Step away from (Y/n). Now,” he commands.

You shiver as the two of them slowly do as Sans tells them. You knew monsters had magic, but you’d never seen it used on anyone before. It was … scary. But beautiful.

“This is going to get reported,” Derek says, helping Bob regain his balance. “Neither of you will get away with this.”

“Oh? What makes you so sure?” Sans asks. “‘Cause, as I saw it, you were about to do something awful to her. And this video will only prove my side of the story, not yours,” he continues, holding his phone up and showing the moment you were shoved by Tony. 

A spark of hope warms your soul as you look to Sans. *Could he really have the upper hand on Tony?* you wonder.

“You wouldn’t dare show that to anyone,” Tony remarks, fear evident in his voice. There’s never been any evidence of the things he’s done to you until now.

“Hmm, that depends on what the three of you do right now,” Sans replies, stepping forward, the blue glow returning.

“What do you want?” Bob manages to say, holding his shoulder. You notice a small trickle of blood oozing down his arm.

“Apologize to (Y/n).”

Tony laughs. “Why the fuck would we do something like that? She’s just a fucking bitch.”

The blue magic glows brighter and you know something bad is going to happen if you don’t step in right now. “Sans, please. I-it’s fine,” you whisper.

His head turns to you, his eyelights slowly fading back to white. He relaxes slightly. 

“Shut up, monster fucker,” Antonio growls making you flinch.

“Leave, now,” Sans snaps, his voice dripping with anger.

“Come on, Bob, Derek. Let’s get the fuck out of here. I’ve had enough monster interaction for the night,” Tony says, snapping his finger at the other two.

“Yeah, me too,” Bob agrees, still holding his arm, glaring daggers at Sans.

You say nothing as you watch the three of them walk back down the alley, your heart still pounding loudly in your ears. Sans watches them until they turn to the right, heading toward the center of the city. He looks to you, slowly walking over.

“You all right?” he inquires.

You open your mouth to answer, but can’t, the tears of relief stopping you. You begin to shake harder, the terror of what they had nearly done to you hitting you. Closing your eyes, you bury your face in your hands and sob, yet again.

“Hey, hey kiddo, it’s all right. They aren’t here any more. And they aren’t gonna lay a hand on ya ever again,” Sans says gently, his voice closer than you expected. 

You look up and see him crouched in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder as you keep crying, the tears slowing a bit at his words. “Th-thank you,” you whimper. “I-I don’t think they had good intentions for me,” you add.

“Trust me, they didn’t,” he agrees, his smile vanishing for a second. 

You chuckle weakly. “They’ve never had good intentions for me.” You stop the thoughts of the previous times they had cornered you, unable to process thoughts like that right now. Sans hands you a kleenex again and you smile at him. “Thank you,” you say, wiping at the tears.

“Don’t mention it. Hate to see ya cry,” he says softly, rubbing the back of his skull, the bone on bone scraping making you wince a little.

You blush at his words, looking to the ground. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, feeling awful for making him see you cry for the second time.

He huffs. “Please, don’t apologize for anything, kid. You’ve done nothing wrong,” he states softly.

Slowly, you look up to meet his gaze, a part of you feeling the truth in his words. The other part of you, the one that has your stepfather’s tone and attitude, mocks you, telling you everything that has gone wrong tonight is your fault. “I’ll try,” you finally say.

“Now, certainly you aren’t comfortable down there. Want some help up?”

You take his hand after shoving the dirty Kleenex into your pocket, marveling at the warm feel of his phalanges, wondering how much magic it took to keep them warm. He pulls you to your feet again but doesn’t let you go. You stare at him, raising a brow as he seems to think something over for a moment. “Sans?” you whisper after a moment of silence.

He blinks, looking up at you. “Yes?”

“Something on your mind?”

“I’m worried for you. I don’t think it would be the wisest idea going home,” he replies.

You stare at him. “What makes you say that?”

“He mentioned your dad. I can only assume he’s not the best of people with the reaction you had to hearing about him.”

Paling, you only nod in agreement. You fear saying any more. The less Sans knows, the safer he’ll be in the long run.

“Well,” Sans rubs the back of his skull again. “My bro and I have been looking for someone to help around the house, ya know, tidy things up, cook meals, that sorta thing,” he says. 

Your staring continues as you try to understand what he’s implying.

“What do you think?”

“I-I … why me?” you finally manage to ask.

“Because, let’s face it, that Tony and his cronies have it out for you,” he replies. “And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You blush at his words. The two of you hardly knew each other. But … you felt you could trust him. You didn’t know why, but you felt safe and whole around him, like you’d found a part of yourself you hadn’t known you were missing until now. But to take him up on his offer was … crazy, wasn’t it?

“(Y/n), I think it’s the best option for you. I’m really worried for you,” Sans says.

You rub your arm, thinking it over. _What do I have to lose? I’ll just stay there a few days until I can gain access to my account again and flee the city._ “All right,” you say.

The huge grin on Sans’ face surprises you, causing you to smile back. “Great!” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your middle, though his touch is far gentler than Tony’s. You relax into him, still shocked by the proximity of his hard bones against your side. “You okay if we take a shortcut?” he wonders, looking down at you.

“Uhm, I’m fine with it,” you answer.

“I’d close your eyes then. It can be a bit of shock on your system. Don’t want ya throwing up,” he chuckles.

“Uh, all right.” You lower your head, blushing as he pulls you closer, and shut your eyes, ignoring your hammering heart. Your feet leave the ground for a second and your grip on Sans tightens. You refuse to open your eyes to see what is happening until he tells you it’s all right to open them.

“Heh, you can open your eyes now, kid,” he says.

Blushing a brighter red, you step back from him, your eyes opening. You look around, surprised to find you’re now in the forest, the full moon lighting the area around you. An enormous house catches your attention, and you feel your jaw drop open. _Did Sans just teleport?_ you wonder belatedly, your gaze drifting back to him. “Where are we?” you ask.

“My home. Do you like it?”

A genuine smile graces your lips as you return to admiring the three story house painted white with four stone columns showcasing the impressive front porch. The front door is a dark mahogany, framed by two windows on either side. It feels … welcoming, more so than your own home.

“I love it,” you say truthfully.

“Heh, well, it’s a little chilly out here. And I’m sure Paps is wondering where I am,” Sans says, taking your hand again and pulling you toward the house.

You follow after him silently, feeling a little worried about meeting someone new. But, you trusted Sans, even if you’d known him for all of an hour. Anyone, whether human or monster, had to be better than your stepfather.


	2. Nightmares Served with Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Stretch outside Sans' house before being shown to a guest room. Your stepfather calls you, leading to a nightmare when you finally fall asleep. Waking early in the morning, you go down and make breakfast, Papyrus and Blueberry joining you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my new fanfic. I am humbled by the comments and kudos you have given. Hope you enjoy this next installment.
> 
> -Alen

You come to a halt at the front door to Sans’ home, your heart beginning to pound as you realize what you’ve agreed too. _This-this is a bad idea_ , you think, pulling your hand from Sans’ grip.

He stops, looking back at you, his white eyelights resting on you in question. “What’s wrong kiddo?” he asks.

“I-I don’t-,” you begin, when you are cut off by the front door swinging open. Your eyes fly to the open entrance, staring at the towering skeleton. They’re a good foot taller than Sans and skinner in build. Slouching forward, a cigarette dangles from his teeth while his white eyelights settles on you.

“Oh, hey there Sans,” he says, stepping outside to join you on the porch, the door shutting behind him. He pulls the cigarette from his teeth, blowing _orange_ smoke from between his teeth. It matches the orange hoodie he wears, the hood resting behind his skull.

“Hey, Stretch,” Sans replies, turning to face the new skeleton. 

You shift behind Sans, staring at Stretch, wondering at the name. You don’t comment on it though. Monsters had odd names, at least if you compare them to humans. Though, you’d only heard of a few of them since visiting Ebbot City a few months ago.

“Who’s the human with ya?” Stretch questions, watching you shift under his gaze, feeling like you shouldn’t be there. 

“Ah, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Stretch, my cousin,” Sans says, lifting a hand and swinging between the two of you as he gave introductions.

“He-he’s not your brother?” you ask curiously.

You notice Sans and Stretch stiffen at the question and mild panic flares in your chest. _You know better than to ask questions like that_ , you berate yourself. _Besides, he just told you Stretch isn’t his brother._

“Nah, Paps is asleep right now, most likely,” Sans replies after a long pause. “I’ll tell him about ya tomorrow.”

“So, ya gonna tell me why ya brought her here?” Stretch wonders, leaning against one of the columns, folding his arms as he stares at you. The attention makes you uncomfortable, but you stare back at him. Sans was the one to invite you here, and he’d said this was his home, not Stretch’s.

“We met at Grillbz and I told her about how Paps and I have been looking for someone to come in and clean up after us. It’s gettin’ hard for my bro and your’s to handle alone,” Sans answers easily.

You stare at the back of his skull, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. So, he’d meant what he said about looking for someone to help around his house. You weren’t too sure how you felt about that. _Let’s face it, you have no money on you, and you gave the one thing away you could have used to get some fast cash,_ you think, the thought of your mother’s ring sending a lance of sadness through you. _How else are you going to be able to repay them for letting you stay here?_ A little manual labor never hurt anyone. You’d done your fair share of it back home.

“Ya sure Sans? Blue and Paps seems to be handling it pretty well,” Stretch drawls, taking another drag from his smoke, the smell reaching you. You wrinkle your nose a bit, not liking the scent of it.

“I-I can find somewhere else to stay,” you say quickly, taking a step back from the two skeletons.

“And how are ya going to get there kiddo?” Sans wonders, turning to face you again.

You freeze in place, your mind slightly fuzzy from all the whiskey. Sans was right. He’d brought you to some forested area. It was dark which meant you were no longer in the city. You have no idea how to even get back there. Your shoulders slump in defeat as another realization hits you. You have nowhere to go. No money to get there. Your car is most likely back at your stepfathers if you have any insight into how he thinks. 

Looking to Stretch, you try to smile in apology. “I guess I’m at least spending the night. Is that all right with you?” you ask him.

Stretch blinks, seeming surprised you asked such a question. “Heh, it’s fine with me as long as Sans says it’s good,” he replies.

“As I said, this is the safest place you could be right now,” Sans states.

You flinch at Sans words, missing the look Stretch shoots the shorter skeleton. “I-I don’t even know what to say, Sans,” you whisper, looking to the stone work of the porch. “You don’t even know me really,” you add.

“I've seen enough to know you're a kind person,” Sans says, taking one of your hands into his, making you look up at him in surprise.

 _You? Kind? Sure,_ you think trying to look away, but are unable too. Something about Sans makes you want to believe what he says. But you aren’t sure. A part of you silently screams not to believe him, that he’ll only lie to you, like everyone else in your life has. You shake your head. “I’m far from kind Sans,” you mutter.

“Trust me when I say this kid, ya are a kind and caring person,” Sans says firmly. Behind him Stretch nods.

You look between them, and finally shrug. The alcohol has made you tired and your panic attack has done nothing to help the matter. “I’ll take your word for it then,” you state, not wanting to argue the fact you didn’t agree with him. Shivering, you rub at your arms, realizing the night is growing colder. You wonder what time it is, but don’t take out your phone to check the clock.

“Why don’t the two of ya take this inside?” Stretch asks. “ _Tibia_ honest, it must be gettin’ pretty chilled out here.”

“Not gonna _fibula_ , but you’re right,” you shot back with a small smile.

The two of them stare at you before Sans smacks his head with his hand, laughing, the bone on bone thwack making you wince slightly. Stretch chuckles, his eyelights widening.

“Kid! Ya gonna make me fall again!” Sans laughs, pulling the front door open and leading you inside to the foyer. 

You chuckle a little, glad to have made the two of them laugh, even at a pathetic pun. “Please don’t. I don’t think I could catch you even if I wanted too,” you say, looking around, taking in your surroundings. It’s a grand foyer, with a massive set of stairs leading upstairs, the grandeur more than you’re used to. You see an assortment of shoes, some set neat and tidy, others laying haphazardly along the left side of the door. There are even some slippers that match Sans’. 

Without being asked, you take your shoes off and set them neatly on the bottom row. It’d been a rule in your house to take your shoes off too, so it was second nature to you at this point. Standing upright, you see the two of them watching you, Sans permagrin wide.

“Wh-what?” you ask, rubbing the back of your hands nervously.

“Definitely made a good choice with her,” Stretch states, the cigarette gone from his hand.

You stare between them, wondering what he meant by that statement. You decide not to comment on his words, instead tugging your cardigan into place, wishing they would stop watching you so closely.

“Come on, it’s late kiddo. And after the week you’ve had, I’m sure ya want to get some sleep,” Sans states, leading you toward the staircase. “I’ll show ya to one of the guest rooms.”

“Uhm, I’ll be fine on the couch,” you quickly say, not wanting to impose more than you already are. 

Sans halts, turning to look back at you, one of his eye brows raising in question. It makes you wonder how a skeleton could be so expressive. “Now what kinda host would I be making ya sleep in the living room?” he asks.

You blush, dropping your gaze to the floor. “I-I’d be fine with it,” you weakly protest.

“Come now kiddo, I’ve got plenty of rooms upstairs for ya to choose from. It’s no imposition,” Sans insisted.

“‘Sides, it’d be best for a young girl like you to have your own room,” Stretch commented, removing his untied shoes and leaving them in an unkempt mess. You itch to fix them along with the other pairs out of place.

“All right. Thank you,” you say, tearing your gaze from the pile of shoes and slippers and following Sans up the stairs. “Good night Stretch, it was nice meeting you,” you say, giving a shy wave to the tall skeleton as he headed for what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Goodnight (Y/n),” Stretch answers, smiling and giving you wink. 

You quickly look away, not sure why your face is burning with a blush. _He’s just being nice to you,_ you think, stopping yourself from thinking along other lines.

“Hope ya don’t mind the guest rooms are on the third floor,” Sans says as you come to the seconding landing. 

“It’s fine. Exercise is good for me,” you answer. And you really don’t mind. Your room back home had been in the attic after you turned eighteen. Your mother had somehow convinced your stepfather that having a room of your own was a good thing. Of course, that had only made things easier for him when he demanded your time. Shuddering, you push thoughts of him from your mind, not wanting to dwell on it.

“Yes, I suppose it is good for ya. I just find it *bone* tiring,” Sans chuckles. 

You laugh lightly at his pun. “Ha, good one,” you state.

Continuing to laugh softly, Sans pauses on the landing. “My room, along with Paps, are to the right of us. Stretch and his brother’s rooms are to the left. Ya need anything, mine is the first door,” Sans says.

You nod that you understand, promising yourself you won’t bother him with anything. He continues up the stairs and you follow silently, wondering just how many rooms this place has. The third landing looks similar to the second and only the burning in your calves tells you that you’ve reached a different place.

Sans leads you to the door at the end of the hall on the left, pushing the door open. “This room has an attached bathroom. It’s stocked with everything you need, though I hope ya don’t mind using generic brands for soap and stuff,” he says, his words trailing off as he rubs the back of his head, a light blue glow forming on his cheek bones. You stare at him in shock, wondering if it’s his magic causing what seems to be a blush.

“Th-thank you,” you say, drawing his attention back to you. 

“Heh, no problem kid,” Sans states, his smile widening. “Remember, if ya need anything, I’m just downstairs. I have some work to get done, so I’ll be up for a bit longer.”

You nod in understanding. “All right,” you say. “Good night Sans.” You step past him and enter the room as he nods to you. You pause, turning to him one last time. “Sans, thank you,” you whisper. “You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

“I did it because I wanted to,” Sans states simply, his permagrin wide. He slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Ya needed help, and I’m able to help ya.”

 _Was that all there really was to it?_ you wonder, meeting his gaze for a moment. You want to question him further, but decide against it. You’re a guest here and questioning your host’s motives wasn’t the best of ideas. Not at least until you know him a little better.

“I’m glad you were there,” you say instead, smiling sweetly at him. Watching in amusement as he blushes again. “Goodnight Sans,” you say sweetly, turning from him.

“G-Good night,” he manages to answer as the door shuts behind you. 

You listen as he walks back toward the stairs, your smile fading as you turn the light on and look around the room. There’s a large queen bed made up with a navy blue comforter and matching pillow cases. A mirror attached to the dresser sits off to the right side of the room across from a desk with a black office chair. You see the door leading to the attached bath and realize you need to go.

Pulling your wallet, phone and keys from your pockets, you set them down on the dresser and go into the bathroom, admiring the simple white and cream of the walls and tile. Staring at the large tub, you think of taking a bath before remembering you have no change of clothes. “Well, shit,” you mutter, going to the bathroom. 

Once done, you wash your hands, drying them with the soft blue towel hanging by the sink. Avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t want to see the evidence of all the crying you’ve done in the last few hours, you turn toward the door when two red dots flash in the mirror.

Freezing, you focus on the red dots. They vanish after you blink and you wonder if you’re so tired you might be seeing things. Shaking your head, you leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You’re about to head for the bed when your phone lights up. Blinking, you walk over to it, wondering why it went off.

You slowly walk over to the dresser, picking up your phone. Paling, you go to the bed, your knees feeling weak. Another message pops up on the screen and you can’t stop yourself from reading it. Bile rises in your throat as you stare at it.

_Where the fuck are you?_

Another message: _Answer me!_

You’re shaking, unable to stop as someone else’s message appears across your screen.

 _Your dad is asking after you. Where the hell did you run off to?_ That was from Tony.

Message after message appears, and you realize your stepfather reactivated your phone just to torment you. Tears fill your eyes. Dropping your phone to the bed, you bring your legs up to your chest, falling to the right, your head landing on the luxurious pillow. You reach for the second pillow and clutch it to your chest, curling tighter around yourself. 

It’s too much for you. Losing your mother and twin siblings. Tony and his friends attacking you. Everything your stepfather has done. Silent tears fall, becoming gasping sobs as images of Ava and Andrew lying charred to burnt husks flash in your mind. Your mother’s body stretched across them in a valiant effort to protect them from the flames that still ate at your home.

You’d been away at work when the fire had started, caused by faulty electric work in the main breaker. At least that’s what the reports said. There was no mention of how your siblings and mother had been tied and gagged, knocked unconscious and left to burn to death.

Shuddering, you try to stop the next memory, but it comes anyway. You’ve not had the time to process, but, now that you are away from him, your control is slipping, making you remember. 

You recall what your stepfather said to you, and the look in his ice blue eyes. He’d told you to keep your mouth shut, or something worse would happen to you for even daring to think of talking about what he’d orchestrated. 

You come to the realization of why Tony had entered Grillbys and your heart sinks. He’d come to collect you as his prize for a job well done. 

Breath hitching, you sob harder, suppressing the wails that want to escape your lips. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. 

_I need to get out of here, and fast,_ you think, clinging to the pillow harder. _I don’t want to put Sans and his family in danger._ Knowing Tony and his buds will stop at nothing to get you. You are his payment for what he’s done. The reason the three people you loved the most are gone. And Tony would give anything to hurt the kind skeleton monster who gave you a place to stay.

Sniffling, you look down, seeing your phone light up again, this time with a phone call. Your chest tightens at the name displayed. *Antonio.* Slowly, you reach for your phone, your hand trembling. 

You really shouldn’t answer him. But you must. Things will only be worse if you don’t. Grabbing your phone, you swipe your finger across the screen, almost missing the button you’re shaking so bad.

“About fucking time!” your stepfather’s voice says on the other end. 

You freeze, not expecting to hear his voice. Your gut drops and the bile you’d been fighting earlier returns ten fold. “D-Daddy,” you whisper, cringing at calling him such a name.

“(Y/n), why the fuck did you go to that monster infested bar? What have I told you about them?” he snarls loudly, making you pull your phone from your ear.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper.

“That’s not going to cut it this time, and you know it,” he threatens darkly. 

You quake in terror, knowing he means business. “I-,” you try to say but he cuts you off like always.

“No. I am speaking. Shut the fuck up and listen! Tell that little skeleton he’s dead if he ever steps into town again. This is my city, not his. You got that?”

You nod, before remembering he can’t see you. “Y-Yes Daddy,” you whimper, curling tighter into yourself, feeling as though he’s standing over you, a belt ready to smack you for your disobedience.

“And, as for you. You know what I want from you. You have twelve hours to get your shit together and return,” he says, his voice growing softer. “You know what I’m capable of doing if you don’t,” he adds.

“Y-yes Daddy,” you whisper again, the response automatic.

“Good girl,” he purrs, making you feel dirty. “Don’t forget our promise, dear daughter.”

The phone call ends and you let the device fall from your ear, unable to hold it there anymore. Messages continue to flood in, coming from everyone you know, and even those you don’t. You watch them flash, the tears not falling any more. You’re too numb and shocked to think of anything. Until one message sends you from miserable, to angry.

 _Just you wait, sugar. I’ll have you right where you belong. With me._ It was from Tony. Three red hearts followed the message. 

Unable to stop yourself, you hiss in rage, throwing your phone. It hits the far wall, shattering the screen and cracking the case. You watch it skitter across the carpet and land under the dresser. 

_How-how dare they?!_ you silently shout, uncurling from your ball and jumping to your feet, needing to pace. “I-I’m not his!” you snarl out loud, your back to the door as you pace back toward the bed. Circling the room a few times, you grind your teeth, your hands clenching into fists of anger.

As quick as your anger comes, it fades, settling to despair. You stop in front of the office chair and pull it out, sitting down, leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. _Who am I kidding? I-I’ve always been his. Ever since my stepfather introduced us, I knew I’d be going to him,_ you think, shuddering. There’s nothing you can do to keep away from Tony. He’s had you in mind since the two of you were fifteen. You’d liked him back then. He’d been sweet to you, sweeter than your stepfather had ever been. 

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts from your mind, not wanting to dwell on them right now. You don’t want to think of anything, but the thoughts won’t stop. Standing back up, you begin to pace again, knowing you won’t be able to go to sleep any time soon. The nightmares will only plague you if you attempt to lay down.

You lose track of the time as you wear a path into the carpet with your pacing. Finally, you’re unable to keep moving, exhausted from the whiskey, funeral and the altercation with Tony. Sighing, you lay down under the covers, snuggling deeper into the softness of the queen bed, marveling Sans gave you something so wonderful to sleep in.

 _What did I ever do to deserve such kindness?_ you ponder, your eyes growing heavy. Sleep comes, and with it, the nightmares you knew would follow.

You watched as your home burned, the muffled screams of your siblings and mother ringing in your ears as your dash for the back door, your bag falling from your shoulders. A hand grabs you, stopping you from entering the house, but not before you’ve thrown the door open.

You see them there, laying dead, flames licking their bodies. The hand holding you pulls harder, and you silently scream in anguish, wanting to go to them, but you can’t. They have gone where you can’t follow. Turning to see who is pulling you away from those you love the most, you meet Tony’s grinning sneer.

With a gasp, your eyes open and you stare around you in confusion for a moment. _W-where am I?_ you ask yourself, looking around. Then everything that happened to you last night returns. You rub at your eyes, glancing to the alarm clock on the night stand beside you and groan. It’s only 4:30 in the morning. You’ve gotten maybe three hours of sleep. 

_Right, I’m at Sans’ place. He brought me home after Tony attacked me,_ you think, rubbing your head as the headache grows in your skull. Your hangover is going to be bad today.

Your stomach rumbles as you sit up, blinking at the bright light above you. You’d forgotten to turn it off after all your pacing last night. You throw the covers off yourself and get out of bed, knowing you’re not going to be able to get any more rest now that you’ve opened your eyes. 

_And how am I supposed to sleep after that nightmare?_ you wonder. _Or the fact I have less than five hours to return to my stepfather?_

Getting to your feet, you turn to the bed and quickly make it, hating to leave it messy. Once that is done and out of the way, you go to the bathroom again, stopping in front of the mirror. You cringe at the sight of your red and swollen eyes. Taking the wash cloth, you wet it before rubbing at your face, trying to calm the inflamed skin. It doesn’t help much. The lack of sleep and excessive crying have done nothing for your looks.

Sighing, you hang the towel again, your gaze turning toward the shower. You really want to take one as you feel grimy, but you have nothing to change into. Taking care of business, you wash your hands again, smoothing down your hair with your wet hands before exiting the bathroom. 

Glancing to your phone, you grimace before picking it up and shoving it into your back pocket, not wanting to look at the damage you’ve done to it. _My stepfather is going to be so angry with me,_ you sigh. Grabbing your keys and wallet, you head for the door, your stomach rumbling with hunger.

Quietly, you open the door and step out into the dark hall. You head toward the stairs, relying on your memory from last night to find them. Tiptoeing so as not to wake anyone, you descend the two flights to the main floor. Staring at the front door you debate just walking right out of the house and fleeing. 

_But, which direction would I even head in?_ you think. You still don’t know where you are, and you really don’t want to take out your phone to bring up the GPS. So you turn your back on the front door and search for the kitchen, your stomach gurgling in hunger once more. 

_May as well make breakfast for everyone. It’s the least I can do for Sans taking me in like he did_ , you think. Passing through the living room, you admire the simple decor and seating, noticing a red bean bag chair sitting across from the giant tv. Your fingers itch to play the various video game consoles, especially when you spot Breath of the Wild. You haven’t been able to play it for years.

“Food comes first,” you mutter, continuing through the living room and passing through the dining room where a large table sat. You make it to the kitchen and stare at the amenities. It has everything you could need or want in a kitchen. 

Going to the white fridge, you pull it open and look around, searching for something good to make for breakfast. Not knowing what Sans and his family like, you decide to go for a buffet style and start by pulling some eggs and sausage out. You then go to the pantry and pull out the flour and sugar and other ingredients necessary for making pancakes. 

Next, you go through the drawers and cabinets, looking for the pots and pans you need. Once you have everything together, you start with the pancake batter, your stomach growling at the smell of cooking food. Humming softly to yourself, you flip the fifth pancake, stacking it with the others before turning to the cooking sausage and eggs stirring them quickly. 

“EXCUSE ME, HUMAN. BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” someone says from behind you, their voice loud after the silence you’ve grown accustomed too.

Squeaking, you whirl around, coming face to face with a tall skeleton. He looks strikingly similar to Stretch, but this new skeleton stands upright and has a bright smile one his face as he meets your gaze. You wonder if this is Sans’ brother Paps.

He steps further into the kitchen and you take a step back, the heat of the stove top making you freeze in place. “I-I was hungry and thought I could make breakfast for everyone,” you say. 

“THAT IS VERY THOUGHTFUL OF YOU HUMAN!” he says brightly, his smile widening.

“It’s the least I could do after Sans took me in,” you state.

“PAPYRUS! I SEE YOU’VE STARTED PREPARING BREAKFAST WITHOUT-” another new voice says from behind the taller skeleton. “OH, HUMAN! I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE AWAKE ALREADY,” the shorter skeleton states, stepping around who you assume is Papyrus. 

You meet the shorter skeleton’s gaze and smile gently at him. You swear there are literal stars for his eyelights as he gazes at you. You look him over, noticing he’s quite similar in build to Sans, just shorter. He wears a light blue t-shirt with gray shorts and a bright blue bandana around his neck.

“Hi,” you say, waving to him as the two of them stare at you. “I’m (Y/n),” you introduce yourself.

“I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” the taller skeleton says, taking your hand and shaking it when you offer it to him.

“AND I AM THE MAGNIFICENT BLUEBERRY,” the shorter one exclaims brightly. “YOU CAN CALL ME BLUE,” he continues, his eyelights shining.

“It’s nice to meet both of you,” you say smiling, shaking Blue’s hand. The smell of something burning catches your attention. “Oh no! The pancake is burning!” you cry, twisting around to flip it over. You then stir the eggs and sausage again, glad you caught them before they could burn.

“PLEASE MISS (Y/N), LET US DO THAT. YOU ARE A GUEST HERE,” Papyrus says, taking the spatula from you and stirring the eggs while Blue took your arm and led you to the island seating area.

“But-but,” you start, wincing at the headache returning from the loud voices the two of them speak. They don’t seem able to really control their volume.

“PLEASE, JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. YOU LOOK TO BE IN PAIN,” Blue says, almost forcing you into the stool at the counter. “WOULD YOU LIKE SOMETHING TO DRINK?”

You open your mouth to protest then think better of it. You were going to tell Sans you couldn’t take him up on the offer to clean his house for him. There would be trouble if you stayed here past breakfast. “Just water is fine thank you Blueberry,” you reply quickly.

His smile is contagious, even with the ache in your soul from the past week you’ve had. A part of you relaxes a bit as you watch the two of them work quickly and efficiently after Blue gave you a tall glass of water. Shifting slightly in your stool, you pull your phone from your pocket, wincing at the sight of it. Placing it face down on the counter in front of you, you feel eyes on your back.

“SO, TELL ME HUMAN, HOW DID YOU MEET MY BROTHER LAST NIGHT?” Papyrus questions, turning to you with a heaping plate of food. 

You blink as he sets it down in front of you. “I met him at Grillby’s after getting a bit drunk,” you answer. You don’t know how much you should tell them of what happened last night. You weren’t going to be here for much longer anyway. “He found out I didn’t have anywhere to go for a bit and offered to let me stay in a guest room.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE A PLACE TO STAY?” Blue cries, sitting beside you and digging into his pancakes, pouring what looked to be blueberry sauce on top of them.

“I-I have somewhere to go now. I … got into contact with a … friend-” you stutter, not meeting either of their gazes. You can’t finish the lie. Every cell in your body doesn’t want to go back to either your stepfather or Tony. 

“(Y/N)? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Papyrus asks, pausing in sitting at the counter on your other side. The rest of the food they made is covered in plastic to keep it fresh for when Stretch and Sans come down to eat.

You open your mouth to answer when a crash comes from upstairs making you jump in fright. Blue sighs beside you drawing your attention to him. “Wh-what was that?” you inquire.

“Wouldn’t ya like to know?” a gravelly voice whispers into your left ear. 

Your muscles lock in place for a moment, your heart pounding in your ears. Slowly, you turn your head and come face to face with another skeleton. His right eye light glows an eerie red, reminding you of the red dots you saw in your bathroom last night. A skeletal hand rests on your shoulder, making you tense.

“RED! MIND YOUR MANNERS,” Blue snaps, getting down from the stool and pulling Red away from you.

You spin in your seat, keeping an eye on Red, taking in his sharp teeth and angry glower. You notice one of his teeth has been replaced with a gold one, filed to a sharp point like the rest. You instinctively know not to mess with him.

“Why are ya here?” he growls, pulling from Blue’s grip and taking a step toward you.

You flinch from his anger, your heart beating faster. “I was just about to leave actually,” you state, snatching your phone from the counter and getting to your feet. 

As if knowing your intention to leave, your phone rings, making you jump in shock. You look to it and freeze in place, Red’s anger at you forgotten. It’s your stepfather. Without saying a word, you pass the three skeletons, not noticing the looks they give you as you leave the kitchen. 

Sliding the phone to answer it, you hold it up to your ear, your heart sinking. It hasn’t even been the twelves hours yet. “Daddy,” you say, stopping at the base of the stairs and sitting down, your legs quaking so bad they can’t hold you any more.

“Why the fuck are you outside of town? Where the hell did that skeleton take you?” he snarls.

“I-I’m at his-,” you try to answer.

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter. I’m outside the house. Come out here, now,” he demands. 

You nearly drop your phone in shock at his words. He’s here? Already? How did he know where you were? Staring at your phone the answer is blatantly obvious. He has a tracker on you.

“(Y/n), now!” your stepfather shouts into the phone. 

You can hear his voice from outside too. And the sound of at least three vehicles. Panic grips you and you glance to the kitchen. You may not know the skeletons who live here very well, but a part of you doesn’t want to see any harm come to them, even Red.

Standing, you rush for the door, as horns start to blare in the driveway, your stepfather’s voice, along with Tony’s and other’s you can’t place, taking up the shouting.


	3. Knock, Knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are confronted by your stepfather and his friends. Sans, and his 'cousins' come outside after hearing the loud ruckus, only to be forced to protect you when things take a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I must warn you, there are mentions of violence and death in this chapter. If that is a trigger for you, then this is your warning. 
> 
> And secondly, but no less important, thank you everyone for the comments and kudos! When I started this fic, I had no idea it would get this much attention. I greatly appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this chapter! It was hard to write, but worth it.
> 
> -Alen

A pair of strong arms wrap around your middle just as you are about to pull open the door. Your breath catches in your chest as your legs flail forward, almost whacking the door in the process.

“I really don’t think that’s the smartest thing to do,” Sans says, his voice dark as the shouts from outside become louder. 

Turning your head, you can see the anger in the expression on his face. His eyelights are gone as he stares at the front door, almost as though he’s trying to see what’s out there.

“I-I’m sorry Sans. They’re here for me. Please, just let me go to them,” you whimper, struggling to be put down.

His grip on you tightens, making you flush in embarrassment. “No.” His white eyelight’s return as he shifts his gaze to meet yours. “They’re trespassing on my property. And you are a guest under my protection. I know they hold no good will toward you.”

You shiver at his words, unable to refute them. Something about the way he speaks makes you believe him completely. You feel warm, right down to your toes in his embrace.

“(Y/n)!” Tony’s voice screams from outside making you flinch, unable to hide your fear in Sans’ arm. 

“Sans,” you whimper, tapping his arm gently as he squeezes you harder against his ribs. He doesn’t react to your words, only tightening his grip more until you find it difficult to breathe.

A smash against the front door makes both of you flinch. You hear several pairs of feel come running from the kitchen, and a few from upstairs as well.

“SANS! WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?” Papyrus says as another crash nearly cracks the front door.

You struggle again in Sans’ grip and he finally lets you go, only to grab your shoulder as you make to open the front door. “We have some unexpected guests,” Sans growls.

You freeze in his grip, hearing the anger in his tone. Even knowing it’s not directed at you, you feel responsible for dragging Sans and his family into your mess. “Sans, please,” you try to plead with him again. You’re cut off by Red speaking.

“What the fuck is goin’ on out there? Why is the front door being attacked?” he snarls, stepping up on your other side and glancing out the window.

You see the shadow of someone and instinctively jerk out of Sans’ grip, launching yourself atop Red, knocking him to the floor just as the window shatters. “Get back!” you scream, spreading your body over Red in an attempt to protect him from the flaming molotov. 

“Wh-what are ya doing?” Red says, his arms wrapping around you as he gets to his feet, rolling with the momentum.

You ignore his words, your eyes on the flames, terror making you grip Red’s black hoodie in a death grip. Your family’s screams echo in your mind. Tears sting your eyes as the shouting around you increases in volume.

“Get her to safety Red,” Sans commands, drawing you from your terror induced hallucination to stare at him as he passes you and Red. His left eyelight glows blue, like it did last night and you watch in shock as the molotov is lifted from the singed carpet and shot back out side. 

The front door glows red and you feel yourself get pulled forward with Red as he marches after Sans. “Ya ain’t the boss of me, Classic!” he growls. “I don’t take orders from you.”

The door swings open and you are dragged outside before you can say anything, unable to release your grip on Red. Panic holds you in place even though you know you should let him go. You look around at the mob of men your father has gathered to get you and shiver, recognizing some of them as the worst in his gang. He means business bringing the ten of them here.

“Wow, I didn’t want to believe what Tony said about you (Y/n). Look at how far you’ve fallen,” your stepfather sneers, his ice blue eyes holding your gaze.

Your hands drop from Red and you try to step away from him, but he’s still holding you with one arm around your waist, his hold tightening as you begin to quake in terror. “I-I-,” you try to say something only to be talked over once again.

“Who the fuck are you?” Red snarls.

Your stepfather ignores Red, looking only to you and the arm the skeleton has around your waist. His eye brow lifts in question as you stare back at him. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” he wonders.

“How could she possibly enjoy herself with a skeleton?” Tony laughs, stepping forward. You cower into Red’s side at the sight of what he holds. What all of your stepfather’s men hold.

“NOW, NOW, I DO NOT SEE THE POINT OF ALL THIS TOMFOOLERY,” a new voice snaps loudly from behind you. You turn to glance at him, noticing he’s tall like Papyrus and Stretch, though he wears black with red accents on his hot topic style clothes. His teeth are sharp like Reds’ and two scars run parallel to each other in his left socket.

“Shut up monster,” Tony snarls, lifting his shotgun and pointing it toward the new skeleton you didn’t know the name of.

Something in you snaps and you rip yourself from Red’s grasp, moving to stand in front of him. “Enough of this,” you growl, placing yourself in front of Tony, shaking at the gun pointing at you. You know it’s loaded and ready to kill someone, anyone behind you. But you will not let anything happen to the skeletons who have shown you nothing but kindness. You won’t let someone else die because of your stupidity.

“Oh, and what are you going to do?” Tony sneers, eyeing you up and down, his eyes dark with anger.

Before anyone can react, you step forward, taking the barrel of the gun in your hand and point it away from the front of the house, shifting yourself closer to Tony. He stares at you in surprise, clearly taken aback by your sudden proximity. “Tony,” you purr softly, lowering your head slightly and looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “You’re right about not enjoying myself,” you hum, your left hand trailing up his chest as you lean into him. Your body trembles at being so close to him. You want nothing more than to yank the gun from his hands and push him away from you. 

There are too many people here with weapons though. If it were just you and Tony, then this would work so much better. Gulping, you continue to stare up into his brown eyes, internally recoiling at doing this to him.

“Tony, just grab her and let’s go,” Derek snaps before Antonio can respond to your advances. 

“Shut it Derek,” Tony growls, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close against him, his sneer turning to a lustful grin. 

“(Y/n),” your stepfather warns and you freeze, knowing that whatever you may be able to pull on Tony and his buds, isn’t going to work with him. His gang friends surround him and he knows he holds your life in his hands, even with Tony here. Hell, with an order, he could have Tony killed too.

Tony’s arms slowly drop from you and you step away from him, meeting your stepfather’s gaze. “Y-yes Daddy?” you whimper, all of your confidence sucked from you.

“Step over here and get away from those monsters,” he says coldly. His ice blue eyes make you weak in the knees, memories flashing through your mind of all the things he’s done to you. You take a step toward him, feeling your entire body shaking. “Don’t make me repeat myself, daughter,” he snaps when you fail to move fast enough for his liking.

As you take a step forward, a barrage of red, blue, and orange bones appear in front of you, making you freeze in place, staring at the sudden appearance of the skeleton’s attack magic.

“Who the fuck do ya think ya are ordering (Y/n) around?” Red snarls, grabbing your left hand and pulling you to him.

The men surrounding your stepfather and Tony back away slightly, their gazes focused on the wall of bones. Only your stepfather stares at you, still expecting you to obey him.

“I am her father. Unhand her monster. Or I shall order my boys here to … deal with you and your little friends,” he says, completely unfazed by the growls you can hear coming from some of the skeletons behind you.

“NOW, HUMAN, THERE IS NO NEED FOR SUCH VIOLENCE,” Papyrus says from your right. You glance to him, surprised to see his eyelights glowing a slight orange color. Beside him, Sans’ left eye glows blue, his smile gone from his face. “SURELY WE CAN TALK THINGS THROUGH IN A CIVILIZED MANNER,” Paps continues.

“I don’t give a fuck what you have to say,” your stepfather snaps, glaring to Papyrus for a moment. “I just want my daughter back.”

“So you can have me killed too?” you whisper.

Dead silence greets your words and you feel Red’s grip on you tighten painfully. You know you’ve fucked up, and big time when your stepfather’s expression morphs to pure rage.

“I warned you (Y/n),” he whispers, almost too softly for you to hear him. “You know better than to cross me.”

You feel weak, as though everything you’ve done up to this point has been for nothing. You’ve said the one thing you shouldn’t have, bolstered by the presence of the skeletons around you. And now that they know, they are trouble. “I-I didn’t-” you whimper.

“Thompson,” your stepfather says to the man on his right side. “Eradicate them.” 

“As you command,” Thompson says, his words devoid of emotion. Every man standing there raises their guns, pointing them at each of the skeletons behind and at you. 

“N-NO!” you scream, reaching a hand toward your stepfather, not sure what you are trying to accomplish. 

You watch, terror coursing through you as the bone barricade rises higher, blocking your view of the men pointing their weapons at you. Another color of bones appears as Red pulls you against him, his eyelights glowing red. 

Shots ring out, ricocheting off the wall of bones. To your immense relief, none of the bullets make it through, though many of the bones crumble at the impact.

You stare with an open mouth as a large skull in the shape of what appears to be a canine appears, floating above you and Red. Magic leaks from the skull, a dull purple color as its maw opens.

“Dusty!” Sans cries. 

“No Classic. I will not stop.” A new skeleton appears beside Red who tenses behind you, almost squeezing the breath from you. 

A scream of pain jolts you from staring at the new skeleton who wears a similar jacket you’d seen on Sans, his left hand lifted toward the hovering skull. 

“AXE! NO!” Papyrus shouts, stepping forward before Sans grabs his arm and pulls him back, shaking his head.

Breathing sharply, you hear something heavy hit the ground on the other side of the wall of bones. Through the gaps you can just make out yet another skeleton. _Jeez, how many of them are there?_ you wonder as the small skeleton shifts out of your sight, moving behind another of the gang, holding what you think is an axe.

Another scream echoes through the breaking dawn, making you shiver in terror at not being able to see what is going on. Before you can react, you are whirled around, Red hugging you against him as he breathes heavily, his left hand coming up and his left eyelight glowing a brighter red. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear an odd, almost metallic sound erupt from right above you. A bright red light causes you to duck further into Red away from the magic you can feel radiating off what you can only assume is another of those canine heads.

You hear Tony yell in agony and can feel that he’s been hit by something. You resist the urge to glance up. You can’t handle seeing anything else. Terror courses through you and you quake in Red’s hold, the screams and growls from the humans and skeletons blurring together.

“Red, give her to me,” Stretch’s voice says over the comotion, making you glance to the orange clad skeleton.

“Fuck off weed bag,” he snarls, pulling you tighter against him. “I’ve got her.”

You whimper, pleading with your eyes for Stretch to get you out of here. All of this is your fault, and the fact people are dying because of you is killing you. “P-please Red,” you whine, pulling against him.

He glances down at you, an angry grimace on his face until he sees the look in your eyes. “A-all right,” he mutters, his voice more gentle. He releases you, shoving you toward Stretch. “Get her out of here,” he snaps, stepping forward to join the other skeletons repairing the bone barricade.

It was Stretch’s turn to pull you close, taking nearly all of your weight as you sagged against him, the adrenaline pumping through you ebbing quickly. He pulls you toward the front door and you whimper. 

“W-wait, please,” you cry, reaching back toward the others. 

Stretch pauses for only a moment when another molotov flies overhead, landing on the column closest to you, the glass shattering, flaming alcohol spreading everywhere. You cringe away from the flames, twisting away from it, pulling Stretch with you as he curses.

Whimpering in pain, you bite your tongue as wayward flames lick at your bare feet. Stretch lifts you into his arms, holding you bridal style, continuing to curse. Raised higher, you can see more of what is going on. It fills you with terror.

Three men are down, one of them relieved of his head, while the other two lie in pools of blood. A short skeleton sneaks up behind one of them concentrating on Papyrus, his shotgun lifted and aimed at his skull. Beads of sweat form on Paps head and you quake in fear, unable to scream a warning to him.

The shorter skeleton, whose skull has a large chunk of it missing, raises a bloodied axe high over his head, a malicious grin stretching across his face. Your heart skips a beat as the axe comes down. The man aiming the gun for Paps falls with a sickening thud. Your scream sounds in place for the dead man.

Stretch whirls away from the scene, pulling your head against his chest, holding you close, crooning into your ear. “Shush, honey, it’s all right,” he whispers.

The shouts around you fade as your eyes close with your wracking sobs. Clinging to Stretch, you whimper as he shifts you to sit. Slowly, you open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. His eyelights glow orange as he holds you tighter in response to your quiet sobs.

“Hey, honey, you’re all right,” Stretch whispers.

The dam holding the majority of the tears back crumbles, and you break, your chest throbbing from the giant, wracking sobs. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” you whimper. “I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you continue, unable to shut your mouth.

A gentle pat on your back makes you cry harder, barely noticing as Stretch pulls you onto his lap to hold you closer to him. “Shh…,” he murmurs, continuing to rub your back as you cry.

You don’t know how much time passes as you sit there sobbing into Stretch’s orange hoodie, ignoring the feel of your tears soaking into the cloth. Over time, the tears dry up and you just cling to the skeleton, too numb to feel much of anything.

Until you hear footsteps at the front entrance. Taking a deep breath, you push away from Stretch, clambering out of his lap. You move to sit beside him, looking to the front door, afraid of who may not come back. Wincing at the pain, you bring your feet up to rest on the couch, your elbows sitting on your knees.

“(Y/n),” Sans says, stepping into the room first, followed by his brother Paps, Blueberry and Red. Hot Topic took up the rear after the door closed behind him with a loud slam.

You slowly raise your head to look at Sans, shrinking back at the look on his face. His eyelights are gone, and you stare into the blackness of his sockets. “S-Sans,” you whisper softly. 

The silence is heavy and you look to the floor, shame filling you. Everything that’s happened tonight is your fault. And, by the look he’s giving you, he agrees.

“COFFEE!” Blue says into the silence, making you jump and turn to look at him in confusion. “WE NEED COFFEE,” he declares.

“Let me help ya bro,” Stretch agrees, getting up off the couch, leaving you feeling very alone as Sans and the other three stare at you.

“Red, Edge, will you two make sure Dusty is … taking care of things outside?” Sans asks, turning to two on his right.

“YOU CAN JUST TELL US YOU WANT TO SPEAK WITH THE HUMAN ALONE,” the one you’ve been calling Hot Topic snaps.

“And why the hell-,” Red begins before Edge smacks him on the back of his head. 

“COME BROTHER, WE HAVE WORK TO DO,” he growls, his eyeslights resting on you for an instant, pure rage filling them.

Whimpering, you scoot backward, ignoring the pain it causes you to push off with your feet. Your back rests in the left corner of the green couch, your heart pounding as Edge and Red turn to head back outside.

“Paps, mind leaving us and helping Blue and Stretch?” Sans inquires.

Papyrus looks to you, a worried frown on his face. “IS THAT ALL RIGHT WITH YOU, MISS (Y/N)?” he inquires.

You nod, wiping at your eyes, trying in vain to get rid of the evidence of all your crying. “It-it’s fine Papyrus,” you croak.

He didn’t look completely convinced, but he followed your request anyway, heading toward the kitchen, leaving you and Sans alone. You watch the taller skeleton, not wanting to meet Sans’ angered expression again.

The couch dipping beside you makes your gaze jerk to him, and you freeze, seeing him stare at you, his smile gone, replaced instead by a frown. Shivering, you curl into yourself more, a small whimper escaping your lips.

“Hey, hey, easy kiddo. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” Sans whispers, reaching a hand toward you slowly and placing it on your left foot, the closest thing to him. You wince at the touch and he freezes, looking down. His eyelights shrink, almost disappearing at the sight of angry red flesh.

You pull away from his touch, crossing your legs to hide your feet from sight. “I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking at your hands clasped in your lap, your fingers twitching with your frayed nerves.

“Sorry? Why the hell are ya sorry?” Sans asks, sounding confused.

You look up at him, a brow rising at the question. You’d expected him to agree with you, not question why you felt guilt. “Be-because they came here for me. Because I was stupid and didn’t go home with Tony when I had the chance. Be-because … some of you … c-could have … gotten hurt trying to p-protect me,” you whisper, your eyes burning with new tears that couldn’t fall. You’ve shed every one that you could today. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, let alone die,” you say softer, covering your face with your hands, hiding in shame.

“None of this is your fault,” Sans says, pulling you into his embrace. You tense at the touch before relaxing against him, too emotionally drained to fight him. You feel … safe in his arms. 

You shake your head, refuting his words. “I should have warned you,” you mutter bitterly. “Should have said no to coming over.” _Should have let Tony take me the moment he came into Grillbys,_ you think, hugging yourself.

“I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer,” Sans states.

You glance up at him, a question in your eyes. “Why?”

“Because ya were in need of a friend,” Sans replies. “And ….” A sudden blue blush creeps onto his cheek bones. 

“What?” you push him to continue.

“I wanted to kill that Tony for what he was about to do to ya,” he snarls, his grip pulling you closer against his side. 

You blink at his admission. “W-why?” you ask again, voice shaking.

Sans pulls away from you a bit before his phalanges rest on your cheek, lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Because you are worth saving,” he whispers. 

A blush creeps over your face, and you stare at Sans. “I-I-,” you stutter, unable to think of anything to say.

“AND YOU ARE A FRIEND. AND A FRIEND OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS TREATED LIKE A MEMBER OF THE FAMILY,” Papyrus declares, returning to the living room with a tray of left over eggs and sausage you’d helped make what felt hours ago. A steaming mug of coffee sat on the tray as well. 

“I think we all know she’s more than just a friend, Papyrus,” Stretch states, joining you and Sans on the couch.

You blink at his words, your mouth opening to ask what he means when the tray is set before you.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BROTHER?” Blueberry chirps from the side of the couch closest to the kitchen, making you jump a bit at his loud voice.

All eyes turn to Stretch, who stares at Sans, glaring. “You didn’t tell honey?” he wonders.

Sans shrugs. “I figured we’d have more time to get to know her,” he says, sweating slightly. 

“Tell me what?” you demand, your voice rising, the food in front of you completely forgotten. You hate being mad at the skeleton, but, your emotions have been through the wringer the past week. You have no patience left to give him.

His skull turns toward you, and his eyelights shrink slightly. _Why is he afraid?_ you wonder. “Uh-uhm, the thing is, kiddo-” he starts when the door slams open, making you jump, the tray of food almost teetering to the floor when Stretch catches it.

“What are ya all doing sitting around in here for?” Red snaps, glaring at the skeletons, his eyelights bypassing you.

“MAKING SURE MISS (Y/N) IS ALL RIGHT,” Papyrus answers from the chair perpendicular to the couch.

You feel eyes on your feet from the two sitting beside you and you shake your head at Sans, silently pleading with him not to mention the burns. They were nothing compared to what your stepfather and Tony have done to you in the past. Sans glares for a moment before sighing.

“WELL, THEN LET THE HUMAN EAT AND HELP ME CLEAN THE FRONT YARD. AXE AND DUSTY REFUSE TO DO ANY MORE. AND I KNOW YOU AND BLUE WILL BE MUCH MORE HELP THAN MY USELESS BROTHER,” Edge snaps.

You stare at Hot Topic, wondering why he called Red useless when he had protected you, almost more aggressively than the other skeletons. 

“WE SHOULD MAKE SURE EVERYTHING IS PUT BACK THE WAY IT WAS. UNDYNE AND ALPHYS ARE COMING OVER LATER,” Papyrus agrees.

Blue is up on his feet and nearly dancing with excitement. “MAKE SURE TO FINISH EVERYTHING MISS (Y/N)!” he says, pointing at you before running for the front door, leaving you staring after him.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE ALL RIGHT HUMAN?” Papyrus asks, half turned to follow after Blue.

“I-I’ll be fine,” you answer as truthfully as you can.

“Bro, we got this. Keep an eye on Blue and Edge, please?” Sans states.

“VERY WELL SANS,” Paps answers. He turns and follows after Edge who left without saying anything.

You feel three sets of eyelights on you and quickly grab the cup of coffee, downing half of it, scalding your tongue in the process. You don’t want to meet any of their gazes. You aren’t ready for it. You silently wonder about the men outside and if they are gone. From the way the fight had been going when you left, you assumed they had turned tail and ran the moment that floating skull appeared.

“About those burns,” Sans states into the silence. “I have something for that up in my room,” he adds, meeting your gaze when you look up at him.

You swallow as you nod, knowing he means to have a long conversation with you without running the risk of the others walking in on you again. “Let me just finish this coffee first?” you say quietly.

“Ya not hungry?” Red inquires, sitting in the red bean bag after dragging it over and placing it at the end of the couch.

You look to him and shake your head. “I’m not, sorry,” you reply.

Stretch takes the tray from you as you gulp the rest of the coffee, wondering if it will even keep you awake. You feel so tired after everything that has happened. But you owe an explanation to Sans, even if you really don’t want to discuss your past with a near stranger. Setting the mug on the tray, Stretch stands and takes it to the kitchen. 

“Just tell the truth to him, honey,” he says with a small smile as he passes in front of you.

You blink at the back of his head, staring. _Is my face that easy to read?_ you think. 

“Seriously sweetheart, listen to Stretch’s advice,” Red says, staring at you, his permagrin more gentle than before.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt her Red,” Sans snaps, getting to his feet.

“Even when your brother almost got dusted?” Red asks.

You jump to your feet and place yourself between them, raising your arms at both of them when Sans’ eyelights disappear. “Please! Please, no more fighting,” you whimper, looking to Red then to Sans. “Can’t we just go to your room and take care of my burns?” you press.

“We’ll discuss this later, Red,” Sans states, his eyelights returning after a moment of silence. Without a word, he steps toward you and lifts you into his arms, causing you to squeak.

“Yeah, whatever!” Red growls, turning toward the tv, red magic glowing from his hand as he levitates the remote to himself.

Sans turns to you and sighs. “Ya mind if we take a shortcut?” he questions.

You nod that it’s fine, closing your eyes and resting your head against his shoulder. You let out your own sigh, wishing this day was over. You fight the memories of the fighting from outside, not wanting to think about it and how you had caused the death of at least four men.

Sans taps your shoulder making you open your eyes and you find yourself in a room larger than the guest bedroom he’d lent you. As your eyes sweep the room, taking in the rather messy expanse of socks, papers, books and empty ketchup bottles strewn everywhere, Sans carries you to the mattress pushed against the wall, setting you down gently. He sits beside you, the bed dipping with his weight.

You swallow hard, realizing you're alone in the room with him. And he’s sure to blame you for all the trouble that has happened in his front yard. _Just take whatever he deals you. It’s the least you deserve after what’s happened,_ you silently chastise yourself. You feel Sans’ eyes on you and hug yourself in response, wanting to hide from him, but knowing you can’t. The both of you have things to talk about.


	4. Tears and Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a talk with Sans, recounting some of the details of your past with him and why your stepfather is the way he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you everyone for your comments and kudos. It's humbling to see all of that.
> 
> Second, this chapter was a bit difficult for me to write. It's my first attempt at this type of thing, and I hope I pulled it off well. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> -Alen

You can’t take the silence any longer as you sit there with Sans watching you. Looking up at him, you are frozen by the stare he gives you. He’s not smiling, which you find a bit terrifying. 

“What did ya mean when ya said he’d have ya killed too?” Sans asks quietly.

Your eyes widen at the sudden question, your heart thumping loudly in your head. You feel sick, remembering how you foolishly blurted that in front of everyone. Of course it would be one of the first things you had to explain to him. Swallowing, you shift how you are sitting, turning yourself so you are sitting cross legged on the bed, facing Sans. Folding your hands into your lap, you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

“I meant exactly what I said,” you whisper finally into the silence, your eyes resting on your hands, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “Y-you saw the men my stepfather had with him. They are some of the top mob members in Ebbot City,” you continue softly.

“But … why would he want to kill ya?” Sans asks.

“Because I’m in the way of what he wants,” you mutter bitterly, your hands fisting with your anger.

“I don’t understand (Y/n). How are you in the way of what he wants?” Sans wonders, his hand coming to rest on top yours, taking them into his and uncurling them.

You slowly look up into his eyes and smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I am the last living heir of the (L/n) estate,” you whisper.

Sans gentle rubbing on the back of your hands stills and his eyelights shrink to pinpricks with his shock at your admission. Obviously he knows about your family. _Well, of course he would know about it. Dad was a famous singer._ He’d died in his prime just after your twin sister and brother were born. The entire world mourned his loss. 

“And your stepfather wants the estate, doesn’t he?” Sans says into the silence.

You can only nod, flinching from the memory of your childhood home burning to the ground. Their screams echo in your head again. “He-he ordered them to be killed, Sans,” you whimper, staring at the bed again, tears somehow filling your eyes once more, spilling over. “They-they were tied up … gagged … trapped.” Your eyes glaze over as the images of your mother and twin siblings appear in your mind. “F-flames were everywhere … destroying everything. They … my family … c-couldn’t get out.” A sob tears through your words, echoing against the walls in the quiet room. “I-I tried to-to save them, to get them out of there. But I-I couldn’t. I …” your words dissolved into whimpers and you couldn’t choke anything else out. 

Curling into yourself, you cover your face as you sobbed, trying and failing to keep from wailing, a part of you ashamed at breaking down like this in front of Sans yet again. He didn’t deserve to be burdened with your emotional trauma. Hell, with all the trouble you had caused him, there was nothing you could ever do in this lifetime, or the next, to repay him for saving your life.

With a squeak, you are picked up by Sans as he lifts you with ease, settling you across his femurs and wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. His phalanges run through your hair as your crying continues, trying to soothe your tears. “Shh … shush, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your ear, his skull resting against your head. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper. The apology meant for him, as well as your family. If you had just said yes to your stepfather, they wouldn’t have been hurt. They would still be here with you. “Forgive me,” you choke, squeezing your eyes shut as you hug yourself. A part of you wants to turn into Sans and take the comfort he is offering, but the larger part of you doesn’t. You don’t deserve the kindness he is showing you.

Sans’ phalanges move from your hair to rest under your chin, gently prodding you to look up at him. You refuse to meet his eyelights, not wanting to see his revulsion reflected there. 

“(Y/n), look at me,” he softly commands. 

Trembling, you slowly raise your eyes to meet his. And blink. _W-why is he crying?_ you wonder in shock, watching as cerulean tears stream from his sockets. “S-Sans?” you question.

“Sweetheart, ya have nothing to apologize for. You have done nothing wrong,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing at the tears dripping from your eyes.

“But … but I knew he was coming,” you whimper, trying to look away from him again in shame. He holds your cheek firmly, stopping you. “I should … should have told you.”

“Still, ya have nothin’ to be sorry for,” he says firmly.

“Th-they wouldn’t have come here if I’d just said no to you.”

“And I wouldn’t have let ya go with them, sweetheart,” Sans growls, making you shiver as his eyelights dimmed with his fury.

You fall silent at his words, wondering why he said them. His phalanges continue to caress your cheek and you lean into the touch without thinking, relaxing slightly. A thought crosses your mind and you stare at him, wondering how best to phrase what you wanted to ask. 

“Did-did my stepfather die?” you whisper.

Sans’ movements halt and he sighs. “No,” he replies simply.

You feel relief, but regret at the same time. “Tony?”

Sans winces. It was his turn to look from you for a moment. “He … lost an arm. But he’s still alive,” he finally says.

You didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of you was glad, thinking of the happy, well, as happy as you could be, times you’d had with Tony. The darker part of you wished he was dead after everything he had done, and been a part of. 

And when it came to your stepfather … If he had died, you wouldn’t have missed him in the slightest.

“And … and what about those that did die? What’s going to happen to them?” you whisper. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart,” Sans says firmly. 

You shake your head. “Sans, some of them are connected to the police. The humans will be out for your bones if you report this,” you state sharply.

Sans chuckles and you can only stare at him in shock at his blatant disregard for your concern.

“Sans, please, it’s not a laughing matter!” you snap, pulling back slightly in his lap, about to scoot off him.

His arms wrap around your waist, keeping you in place. “Heh, sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, kiddo,” he states quickly. “But ya don’t need to worry. I’ve got everything sorted out,” he continues.

You still wanted to pull away from him and make him understand just how much danger he was putting himself and his family in. “Sans, please listen to me. I’ve lived with my stepfather for fifteen years. He’s going to come back, if not to make sure I’m dead, then to hurt you and your family,” you say, reaching for his forearm and gripping it lightly. “I-I need to get out of here.”

Sans sigh surprises you. “I’m afraid I can’t let ya leave, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your hand falls from his arm and your heart stutters in sudden fear. _W-why would he say something like that? Is .. is he going to make me pay for the trouble I’ve caused?_ you think in terror, not realizing as you tremble in his hold.

“Whoa! Whoa there kiddo! Take it easy,” Sans says gently. “I’ve promised ya I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

“Th-then what did you mean by I can’t leave?” you whimper. 

He lifts a hand up to your face, not saying anything for a while, just watching as you stare at him in apprehension. “I offered ya a job here, kiddo. I’m not gonna let ya run off back to that bastard and get hurt or killed,” he states.

You blink at his answer, confusion filling you. _He and his family put their lives on the line to protect me because I agreed to clean his house?_ you think, finding it an odd reason. “Surely there’s someone better than me to do it,” you say.

“There’s not. You’re perfect just the way ya are,” Sans says.

A small part of your heart flutters at his comment, making a blush creep onto your face. “I-I …,” you stutter.

A blue flush forms onto Sans’ face and he rubs the back of his skull, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

“Is … is there another part of the job you aren’t telling me about?” you ask.

You watch as Sans freezes under your gaze and know you’ve hit the nail on the head. Your mind conjures different ideas, all worse than the last, but you push them aside, waiting for him to explain himself. 

“Heh he he …,” he croaks a laugh as you watch him silently. “Y-yeah, there, may be a bit, well, a _skele-ton_ more to it than what I first told ya,” he jokes.

You continue to be silent, ignoring his pun when in other circumstances it would have had you laughing.

Sweat forms on Sans’ skull, which you wonder at. “H-have ya heard of monster heats?” he finally says into the silence.

You shake your head, confusion filling you at the sudden turn in the conversation. “No, I haven’t,” you answer.

The blue blush on Sans’ cheekbones grows brighter. He chuckles nervously and shifts slightly under you. You make to get off him, thinking he wants space, but his arms hold you still. 

“Sorry, just getting more comfortable,” he explains as he shifts further back until his back is resting against the wall. You are still situated in his lap, his arms around your waist. “So, ya know how dogs and cats go into heat every few months?” he begins.

You nod, having had a few pets when you were younger.

“Well, monsters, both male and female, go through a heat as well, where we are driven to seek out another for … sexual needs.”

Your eyes widen at his words as you wonder just how a skeleton can have such needs. They were nothing but bones. _Magic, stupid,_ you remember, staring at the beads of sweat on Sans’ temples. And then you freeze in Sans lap, your heart sputtering to a stop as you realize where this conversation is going.

He seems oblivious to your shock as he continues. “Now, my bro and I, as well as our cousins, we’re a bit different, even for monsters. We’re what ya call boss monsters. Our heats come not once a year, but three to four times a year.” 

“So, you want me to help you, and your family with your heats?” you whisper softly, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat.

Sans meets your gaze and nods. “Yes. It’s been … rough, I’m not gonna lie,” he states. “Livin’ together we’ve synced, so it’s … not the best idea to bring someone home to … well …”

“Fuck.” you finish for him, watching with a bit of amusement as he blushes harder than before.

“Y-yeah, basically …,” he mutters.

You gaze at the bed as you think, pondering this new bit of information. Honestly, with everything that has happened this morning, you can hardly comprehend what Sans is telling you. It’s a lot to take in.

“(Y/n), you don’t have to decide right this minute. I know ya been through a lot. Hell, I don’t even know how ya made it out of that bastard’s house without turning bitter toward the world,” he says.

You turn back to him and smile sadly. “I can’t be bitter at the world Sans. My mother taught me to be happy for what I have.” Of course, now that everything has been taken from you, it’s difficult to see the positive.

“That’s some solid advice, kiddo.”

You nod. Looking down at your hands, you take a breath, coming to a rash decision. “I’ll do it,” you say into the silence. Slowly, you look up at him when he doesn’t respond.

“You will?” he says, sounding as though he doesn’t believe you.

Again you nod. “Yes,” you repeat. “I-I don’t exactly have anywhere else I can go, do I?” you say, trying not to sound bitter. “I … I don’t want to bring danger to you, or your family, but ….” Your words are cut off as Sans pulls you into a hug, nearly squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Shush, sweetheart. My family and I can handle ourselves. There’s no need for ya to fret over it. It’s you I’m worried about,” Sans growls.

You open your mouth to protest but close it, knowing he will just refute your words. “All right Sans,” you say instead, dropping the matter, for now. 

“Thank you, (Y/n), for agreeing to this,” he says after a moment of silence settles around you as he holds you close to himself, the feel of his warm bones almost lulling you to sleep.

His words bring you back to wakefulness and you push against him to look into his eyelights. “So … how does it work?” you ask, curiosity burning in your soul. You needed something to distract you from remembering things, something to make you feel like you were doing something worthwhile to make up for all the shit you had brought upon Sans and his family.

Sans’ blush deepens as he chuckles. “Heh, I guess that’s a valid question,” he muses. You watch in shock as he opens his mouth, sticking a cerulean tongue out at you, wiggling it as you stare at it, mesmerized.

“Y-you have a tongue …,” you whisper, hating you sound so dumbfounded.

His tongue wags once more before retracting back between his teeth. “I have a few other things too,” he winks, his voice pitching deeper.

You flush a bright red, your mind wandering to all the possibilities. You shift in Sans’ lap, wincing at the pain in your feet as you move. He notices the pained look in your face and his smile falters.

“Oh damn! I’m sorry kiddo, I completely forgot about your burns,” Sans says, lifting you up off his lap and sitting you so your back is leaning against the wall. He shifts to a kneeling position, reaching for the small table by his bed. Opening the drawer, he pulls out a bar of chocolate. He hands it to you with a smile. “Here, this will help ya with those burns,” he states as you take the proffered bar.

“Isn’t it just a bar of chocolate?” you wonder, staring at the purple wrapper foiled in gold with the word chocolate written in large font.

You hear him chuckle, drawing your attention back to look at him. “It’s monster chocolate. I hear it can have healing properties in it,” he says, shrugging his shoulders when you continue to stare at him.

Eagerly, you tear open the chocolate, having heard a few stories of what monster food could do. Taking a small nibble from one end, you chew for a bit before swallowing, your eyes widening at the fact it dissolves before sliding down your throat, leaving a slight tingle. That sensation spreads, reaching every part of your body, making you take another bite, moaning softly at the taste.

Clapping a hand to your mouth, you stare at Sans, mortified. Had you really just done that? _Wh-why did I do that?_ you question, feeling the blood rush to your face, heating it with a blush.

“Heh, taste that good, sweetheart?” Sans wonders, leaning slightly closer, making your heart jump in your chest. His cheeks glow with his magic blue blush, and you still, your mind thinking back to what you promised him.

Your blush deepens, and you abandon the doubt you have about backing out of the deal. You’ll keep your promise to him. It’s the least you can do for him and his family.

Smiling sweetly at him, you lift a hand up to his face, leaning in on him as well. “Why, it’s _Sans_ enstional,” you purr, and pull him toward you, your lips touching his teeth in a quick kiss before you can chicken out. 

He’s frozen for a moment, before his arms wrap around you, pulling you back to him, your lips returning to his. You suck in a surprised breath, feeling a wet, warm tingle against your lips when he gently prods you with his tongue. You open your mouth without thinking, and his tongue slips in, the pleasant tingle increasing.

Suddenly, you are pushed back, the kiss deepening as Sans hovers over you, his weight held up by his arms and legs. You moan, your arms clutching the mussed up sheet beneath you, seeking something to hold. Tongues dance together, drawing whimpers from you. You can feel and hear Sans growl above you, one hand holding the back of your head to bring you as close to him as possible.

You begin to feel lightheaded. You struggle, whimpering under Sans and he’s off you faster than you thought him capable of moving. Sucking in a breath, you stare down at him, raising a brow. 

“Stars sweetheart, ya need to learn to breathe,” he says, chuckling. “I’d teach ya, but, I don’t got the _lungs_ for it,” he jokes.

“I’ve … I’ve never been kissed like that before,” you quietly admit. 

Sans blush is brighter than you’ve ever seen it, putting yours to shame. “That-that wasn’t your first kiss, was it?” he whispers, his white eyelights shrinking. His entire skull is now glowing.

You laugh gently, shaking your head. “No, I’ve been kissed before,” you answer. _Often against my will,_ you think before stamping that line of thought down. “Just … never with such … passion,” you murmur, your hands coming up to hide your face in embarrassment. _Or kindness,_ you add silently, running your tongue along the roof of your mouth, missing the feel of Sans’ tongue.

“We can stop if this makes ya uncomfortable,” he says.

Lowering your hands, you look at him again and pause. Do you want to stop? _No. I-I need this,_ you decide, meeting his gaze. Determination to finish what you started fills you. “No, I don’t want to stop,” you state.

His sockets widen and he seems lost for words for a moment. Before you can lose your nerve, you sit up again and reach for him since he seems frozen in indecision. 

“This is part of the job, isn’t it?” you question, resting your hand on his femur.

“Y-yeah,” he says and you catch the slight hesitation in his answer.

It’s your turn to be at a loss for words. This is new to you. Tony never gave you the option to choose. You didn’t know what to do to instigate things. Your gaze falls to your hand resting on Sans’ black shorts, idly rubbing the fabric under your thumb as you think. So, you do the one thing you know you’re good at. 

Feeling Sans’ eyelights on you, you keep your gaze down on your hand, wondering how to go about doing what you want. _Do-do skeleton’s even have one?_ you wonder suddenly. _Guess there’s one way to find out._

Sans’s intake of breath makes you freeze after moving your hand higher, hovering just above the drawstrings to his basketball shorts. You look up at him in question, about to ask if he’s okay with doing this.

“Heh, looking for a _bone_?” he chuckles, and his left eyelight glows blue, matching his tongue.

Raising a brow at his pun, you smile. “I see plenty of ‘em already,” you snark back.

His smile nearly splits his skull in two as he takes one of your hands into his and guides it to his pelvic bone. Your gaze drops, and you can make out a noticeable tent in shorts.

Your blush feels as though it encomapasses your entire body, warmth pooling in your center as you stare. Still holding your hand, Sans helps you untie the string holding his shorts around his hips. Without preamble, he maneuvers himself in a position to shuck his shorts and boxers, dropping your hand before it could get in the way.

You stare as he shifts to sit in front of you, a glowing blue cock standing at attention in front of you. It seems the kiss didn’t just affect you, but him as well. Not saying anything, you slowly reach forward, admiring the soft glow that emanates from it. It’s shaped different from a humans, and is certainly … wider than anything you’ve had before. 

Sans says nothing, only watches you as your finger touches the tip, drawing a moan from him. The same tingle you felt from his tongue returns and you gently grip him with one hand, scooting closer. Rubbing up and down carefully, you apply a bit more pressure to see what would happen, enjoying the feel of the magic dick in your hand.

Looking up, you notice Sans’ sockets are shut as he leans back, looking as though he’s enjoying himself. Your grip gets a bit harder and you feel him jerk slightly in response. Smirking, you lean closer, the smell of ketchup and pine filling your nose as you inhale.

Sticking your tongue out, you flick it across the tip of his cock. Sans groans, his phalanges running through your hair as you do it again. 

“That feels amazing sweetheart,” Sans purrs, holding either side of your head gently in his hands.

You hum in answer, focused on making him feel good. You feel heat begin to collect between your legs, and flush. Opening your mouth as wide as you can, you take Sans between your lips, listening to him moan softly.

“Stars, you’re gonna make me melt,” he groans, his grip tightening in your hair. A part of you worries he’ll take control, but, thankfully, he’s merely resting his hands there.

Running your tongue along the underside of his cock, you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, sucking gently, subconsciously moaning in answer to his growls of pleasure. You feel your panties growing slick with desire. 

When you hear Sans’ moans grow louder, you increase your pace, your tongue dancing around his cock, doing your best to take as much of him as you can. His grip in your hair tightens and you hold your breath, plunging his dick down your throat.

He sucks in a surprised breath, his length twitching and you suck harder, bobbing your head up and down. “Sh-shit!” Sans croaks and your mouth is overflowing with sudden cum.

You swallow as quickly as you can before slowly pulling off him, licking your lips, finding your mouth still tingles from the remnants of his semen. Slowly, you glance up at him, both of you blushing furiously. 

“That was … amazing,” Sans sighs, releasing you and leaning back, panting slightly. 

You sit back, crossing your legs under you and smile slightly. “You’re welcome,” you state. Rubbing your arm, you watch as his cock slowly recedes before disappearing. 

  
You’re about to ask him what exactly it’s made from, when you find yourself pushed backward, the ceiling now in your view.

Squeaking, you look down at Sans in confusion. “Wh-what are you doing?” you question, feeling the hard bones of his hands on your hips.

“Returning the favor,” he replies, taking hold of the waistband of your black slacks.

Your entire body freezes as he pulls, which in turn makes him halt his movements. “Y-you don’t have to do that,” you say quickly, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. Embarrassment fills you and you look everywhere but at him.

“Sweetheart, I want to do this. Ya made me feel amazing. I merely want to help ya feel the same,” he says gently.

You want him to touch you. You don’t know why, but you feel drawn to him, as though this is what you’ve been searching for. Taking a deep breath, you give the barest of nods, signaling he can continue.

He resumes pulling at your pants, slowly pulling them off as you shift to make it easier for him. You blush as he stares at your plain white panties, his left eyelight glowing cerulean again. 

With a gasp, you feel Sans’s finger bone brush your panties aside as he positions himself between your legs, lying on his stomach. His eyelights are focused on your pussy, his sockets half closed. “Ya smell divine, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath making you twitch, your breath catching in your lungs.

Your eyes close as Sans’ fingers brush against your dripping pussy, a soft moan escaping between your lips. Clamping a hand over your mouth you turn your head, embarrassed. 

“Hey now, none of that,” Sans says, reaching up with his free hand to pull yours from your mouth. “Let me hear ya,” he continues.

You allow him to pull your hand away, but keep your head turned toward the wall and your eyes shut. Another moan escapes you as he rubs your clit gently, making your hips buck at the sudden stimulation. As he rubs gentle circles on your sweet spot, he slowly inserts one of his phalanges within your folds, eliciting a louder moan from you.

Slowly, his speed increases, and you squirm under his touch, mewling. All of this is new and overwhelming. Heat blooms within your core, and your muscles tighten. Something warm and tingling makes you shudder. “S-Sans!” you cry, eyes flying open to find his skull buried between your legs, his nasal cavity pressed flush against your skin.

He removes his finger, and you whine at the sudden loss of pressure, your climax building quickly. Only to arch your back off the mattress in shock when Sans’ tongue flicks across your pussy, teasing you much as you’d done to him.

His hands encircle your waist and pull you back onto the bed, holding you still. Moaning, your eyes close again, sparks lighting behind your lids as Sans’ tongue slips inside you, entering deeper than his finger bones. Your shivering as it twists and twirls, showcasing it was a magical tongue and not some lame human one. 

Panting, you grip the sheets, sweat beading your forehead, the pressure within your core winding tighter, seeking release. “P-please!” you whimper, trying to thrash about but unable to as Sans still holds you in place.

One of his hands returns to your clit, twisting the swollen nub between two fingers, and it’s your undoing. With a shriek, you cum, the pressure within you snapping. Your muscles clench and you shudder, tears of pleasure falling from your sore eyes. “S-Sans …,” you whimper as he continues tongue fucking you as you shiver with each movement.

He gives one final flick of his tongue before moving away from you, staring up at you with a smirk. “Damn, sweetheart, that was hot,” he purrs, crawling up beside you and curling around you, gently lifting your head to rest on his arm.

You slowly come down from the intense pleasure high, and blush at his words. Your mind is too tired from everything to come up with a come back, so you merely smile, your eyes still closed. Shifting slightly, you get more comfortable, your entire body growing heavy. The last thing you remember is the room plunging into darkness and the blanket gently covering both of you when sleep claims you.


	5. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You awaken after your experience with Sans and head downstairs where you are about to eat dinner when expected guests come over, seeing the broken window from the mob's attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took me over a month to write this chapter. Life has thrown me a curveball and work has not been fun. Thank you so much for your patience with me and I will do my best to post more often. 
> 
> -Alen

Loud voices from the floor beneath you startled you awake. Sitting up with a start, you wildly look around, your heart pumping with adrenaline. _Wh-what time is it? Why is Daddy yelling again?_ you think, panicking.

Throwing the blanket off, your mind catches up to you and you freeze, memories crashing through your brain. The fire, the funeral, what you and Sans did earlier. Your face flames at the thought, and you glance to your right, finding him gone. Glancing down at your legs, your blush deepens as you realize your clothes are back in place. 

_Really now, what is there to be embarrassed about by that?_ you quietly chide. He’d seen nearly everything earlier. 

Scooting to dangle your legs over the edge of the bed, you look down at your feet, surprised to see your skin wasn’t red from the flames you’d stepped in. You wonder just what exactly was in that chocolate. Marveling at the advantages magic gave, you stand, heading for the door, nature calling.

Opening San’s bedroom door, the voices get louder, but you can’t understand what is being said. Old habits surfacing, you tiptoe down the hall, eyes landing on the one open door leading to the bathroom. Slipping inside, you quietly shut the door, wondering what time it is. Your stomach growls and you think back to the little bit of breakfast you’d had this morning. 

Taking care of business, you wash your hands, lifting your gaze to stare at your reflection, grimacing at the sight of your messed up hair and swollen eyes. It’s so obvious you’ve been crying your eyes out. Sighing, you turn away, drying your hands on the soft red towel beside the sink contemplating what you’re going to do next. 

Reaching for the door knob, it suddenly flies open, nearly hitting your hand. With a squeal, you jump back, staring up into the red eyelights of Hot Topic. _Edge, his name is Edge,_ you remind yourself quickly.

“HUMAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” he snarls, staring down at you. You can almost feel the anger rolling off him. 

Trembling with fear, you take a step back further into the bathroom. _Why is he mad at me?_ you wonder. “I-I was using the bathroom,” you stutter quickly.

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?” Edge growls, taking another step into the room, blocking your escape. “THIS ISN’T YOUR HOUSE. VILE CREATURES LIKE YOU SHOULD KNOW THEIR PLACE.” He towers over you, leaning slightly forward to bring his eye sockets closer to your face. 

“I-I-,” you begin, trying to say something when he cuts you off, his voice low, but still holding the dangerous tone to it.

“I’M WATCHING YOU, HUMAN. ONE WRONG STEP, AND YOU’LL BE DEALT WITH. MARK MY WORDS,” he threatens. 

Your mouth goes dry with your terror and you quickly nod. Even if you wanted to say something, you can’t.

His hate filled stare bores into you for a few more heartbeats before Edge whirls around, seemingly done with you, for now. You hear him huff in anger as he leaves the bathroom, turning to the right. A few moments later, a door slams, silencing the conversation from downstairs for a moment.

Quivering, you back up until you can rest against the wall for support, your heart racing. Tears form and you fight them away, not wanting to cry when Edge is so close. You take a shuddering breath and push off the wall, unsure what to do with yourself now. 

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway, you hear the conversation resume downstairs, albeit softer than before. You pause, looking left, then right but see no one, so you quietly tiptoe toward the staircase, hunger driving your steps to the kitchen.

Pushing thoughts of what happened earlier that day from your mind, you descend the stairs, the conversation growing louder with each step you take. You slow before reaching the last stair upon hearing your name. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop, but you can’t help it.

“Sans, what are we going to tell Undyne and Alphys when they come over tonight?” That was Stretch’s voice. You thought he sounded slightly agitated.

“Heh, don’t know why you’re emotions are _stretched_ so tight there, pal. Ya don’t need to worry about the two of them. I’ve got everything under control,” Sans says, sounding relaxed. 

“And what of our...guest?” Red wonders, his voice the closest to the stairs.

“I’ve got that under control as well. We’ve come to an agreement-” Sans began when Papyrus came up behind you.

“OH! MISS (Y/N)! IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AWAKE,” Papyrus says loudly. 

Squeaking, you spin around, nearly falling down the last two steps as you look up at the tall skeleton in surprise. “Oh, P-Papyrus,” you say, your words wavering. “You startled me.”

“I’M TERRIBLY SORRY ABOUT THAT!” he says, grabbing your arm to keep you from falling. 

You glance to the ground, a blush rising in your cheeks as you stutter out an answer. “I-it’s fine. I shouldn’t have stopped on the stairs like that and got in the way.”

“NONSENSE! YOU WERE NOT IN THE WAY,” Papyrus says, letting you go and joining you on the landing. 

“Heya Paps, I see you found (Y/n),” Sans states, coming out from the living room and stopping in front of you. 

You look everywhere but at him, the blush from Papyrus’ words burning brighter at the sound of Sans voice. _How am I supposed to face him after what we did?_ you wonder silently, staring at his mismatched socks. 

“Hey kid, how ya feeling?” Sans asks, his words gentle. 

Taking a breath, you muster the courage to meet his eye lights. You weren’t ashamed of what the two of you had done. You’d enjoyed it, far more than you ever thought you could. “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” you reply quickly before the silence can drag and become uncomfortable.

“THAT IS EXCELLENT NEWS!” Papyrus exclaims. “WE WERE WORRIED ABOUT YOU AFTER THE EVENTS OF THIS MORNING,” he continues.

You look down again, wincing at the memories. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Nah, there’s no need to apologize,” Sans says, leaning against the wall with his hands slipping into the pockets of his blue hoodie. “Bettin’ you’re getting kinda hungry though. Ya didn’t eat much this morning,” he adds.

As if hearing what he said, your stomach growls in agreement. The two skeletons look at you in surprise before Sans begins laughing. “Yeah, I could go for something to eat,” you mumble, stepping past Sans and entering the living room. You feel another’s gaze on you and look up to find Stretch, lounging across the couch, and Red, sitting in the red bean bag, staring at you.

“WELL, YOU CAME DOWN JUST IN TIME! BLUE AND I WERE JUST ABOUT TO SET THE TABLE FOR AN EARLY DINNER,” Papyrus says, his voice making you flinch as he comes up behind you.

You glanced to Sans, feeling guilty for not having started doing part of your job. You assumed making meals for everyone was part of the agreement the two of you had come to. He merely smiles at you, continuing past you into the dining area. “Th-that’s great to hear,” you say to Papyrus, smiling at him. You can smell the food and your stomach growls again, louder than before. You’re not sure exactly what it is, but it smells divine, whatever it is.

“NYEH HEH! JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL YOU’VE TRIED IT!” Papyrus states, striding past you with his longer gait.

“MISS (Y/N)! YOU’VE COME DOWN STAIRS!” Blueberry says, peeking his head around the doorframe leading into the kitchen, his eye lights literal stars in his sockets. “I WAS GROWING WORRIED WITH HOW LONG YOU’D BEEN ASLEEP.”

“Sorry to worry you Blueberry,” you say, sitting down at the table when Sans nudged you toward it with a small laugh. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long. Though … I didn’t really sleep very well last night,” you mutter.

“WHY IS THAT?” Papyrus asks as Sans sits beside you and gives you a sharp stare.

Cursing yourself for opening your mouth, you sigh. “Bad dreams,” you answer. It’s not a lie, but not the full truth either. The stepbastard’s threats had kept you awake. Along with memories of your siblings and mother’s last moments.

“I AM SORRY TO HEAR BAD DREAMS PLAGUE YOUR SLEEP,” Blueberry says, stepping toward you and grabbing your hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. “I AM ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU IF YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TOO,” he continues, smiling at you.

You smile back, surprised by his words. “Thank you, Blueberry. That is very sweet of you to offer,” you say.

“MWEH HEH HEH HEH! BUT OF COURSE!” 

“Hey, is dinner ready yet?” Red asks from behind you before anyone can say anything else.

You tense at the sharp tone, turning to glance at him, fearing he is upset with you. You wouldn’t blame him for being angry. Not after what you brought to his home.

“YES, YES RED, DINNER IS READY. COME HELP ME GRAB THE PLATES AND UTENSILS,” Blue says brightly, whirling on his heel and disappearing into the kitchen once more, leaving you with Sans and Papyrus. “YOU TO STRETCH!” he calls to his brother.

“All right bro, I’mma coming,” Stretch chuckles, passing Red who was still standing behind you, glaring at you.

You shrink down into your seat, quickly dropping your gaze from him, not wanting to see the anger in his expression. “Tch,” he mutters as he passes you. “I don’t see why we have to put up with you,” he snarls.

Swallowing the sudden urge to cry, you glare at the table. Yeah, you were fine with him being mad at you. But did he have to say it in such a condescending way?

“RED! THAT WAS VERY UNCALLED FOR,” Papyrus snapped, standing up and following after Red.

Sans hand rested lightly on yours, drawing your gaze to him. “Don’t listen to him sweetheart,” he says gently. “He can be a little rough around the edges. Don’t let him get to ya.”

You offer a thin smile. “Thanks Sans,” you whisper. “I’ll be fine. I don’t blame him for being mad at me,” you add.

“I was merely stating a fact,” Red shouts from the kitchen. You realized you missed some of the conversation talking with Sans. “What does it matter if it hurts her feelings? What about the rest of us? She’s the reason we had to dispose of four bodies!”

You flinch at his words, not wanting to think about what had happened this morning. Sans releases your hand and gets to his feet, marching toward the kitchen. “Red,” he says, his voice soft but carrying a hint of suppressed anger within it. “Do not talk like that. (Y/n) is a guest within my house, just as you are. I will not tolerate ya acting like a spoiled child because ya couldn’t put your anger aside and look at the bigger picture. Ya have no idea what she’s been through, and I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t tell ya after this,” he continues.

You’re half standing up from your chair about to follow Sans into the kitchen when you freeze at his words. What had made him say those things to his own family member? 

“Oh, what? Did she tell ya some sorta sob story about her life? Did she spread her legs for ya? Is that why ya smelled like her this afternoon?” Red snarls.

Your face flames at the skeleton’s words as the kitchen goes silent. Something in you snaps. You step forward, marching into the kitchen to find Stretch, Paps and Blue staring between Sans and Red with varying looks of horror and anger. 

“Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?” you whisper from behind Sans, making him jump and all eye lights turn to you. “Why do you think you can say such things about me while I sit in the next room and can hear you? What gives you the right to speak down about me?” You’re shaking with rage, your hunger forgotten.

Red opens his mouth to speak but you talk over him. “So what if I came to an agreement with Sans? So what if I, as you said, ‘spread my legs’ for him?” You let the tears of anger fall, your emotions still raw from this morning. 

“I-I didn’t-” he tries to say.

You glare at him in pure rage. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I did what I did because I had too. Yes, I brought those men here. Yes, I am the reason there are four dead men you had to dispose of. Do you think I _wanted_ any of that to happen?” you mutter. “Do you think I like that fact thrown in my face?”

No one says anything in reply and you take another step toward Red, the others stepping back from you as you advance on him. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, Red,” you snarl, your voice softer than ever.

Before anyone can say anything else, you whirl around, the tears falling faster, blurring your vision. You begin to run, ignoring Sans and the other’s cries for you to come back. You can’t be around them, not without risking yelling at them too. And none of them deserve it. Except Red. There was no reason for him to say what he had to you.

Coming to the staircase, you run into Edge, falling on your ass as you blink up at him, the tears warping your view of him. 

“WHAT THE-? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING RUNNING ABOUT LIKE A CRAZED ANIMAL?” Edge snaps, glaring down at you in fury.

Seething, you jump to your feet, rage fueling your movements and allowing you to ignore your sore butt cheeks. “Well, why the hell don’t you watch where you’re walking?” you snarl up at him, taking a step toward him. 

His eye lights narrow as he glares down at you, standing taller. “THIS IS MY HOME. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME LIKE A SPOILED BRAT,” he says, his voice lowering into a growl. “DON’T THINK FOR A SECOND YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO EVEN THINK-” he began.

You raise a hand, cutting him off. “Brat? Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” you snap, eyes flashing. “I may be the reason all that shit went down this morning, but what gives _you_ the right to tell me off?” 

“(Y/n).” Sans voice stops you before you can continue your tirade. “I think the two of you have said enough to each other.”

You slowly turn to look at Sans, feeling your heart sink at the look of restrained anger in his eye lights. Sucking in a broken sob, you push past Edge, ignoring his angry shout.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you screech to a halt when Red appears in front of you, his red eye lights glowing in the dark hallway. “Where do ya think you’re going?” he asks softly.

Shaking, you meet his gaze, unable to say anything. All of your anger has fled you, leaving you frozen in place.

“What, did ya lose all that fire after runnin’ into Boss?” he wonders, his grin stretching across his skull. 

A touch on your shoulder makes you jump, looking back to see who’s touching you. You pale realizing it’s Edge. “THIS CONVERSATION IS FAR FROM OVER. DON’T ACT LIKE A COWARD AND RUN FROM IT,” he snarls, his voice loud being this close to you.

You turn, stepping toward the wall, keeping both of them in your sights, your heart pounding. “I-I-” you try to say, but words fail you completely. You blink and Sans is a few inches in front of you, blocking most of your view of Red and Edge.

“S t o p.” Sans whispers, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. It sends a shiver of fear down your spine and you lay flat against the wall, wanting to run but unable to go anywhere with Sans blocking your path and Red and Edge on either side of you.

Your breath comes faster, and you hold a hand to your chest as it flares with pain. “S-Sans … Please. I-I need space,” you whimper.

Sans turns to you, worry in his eye lights as he reaches for you. “Sweetheart, it’s all right,” he says gently, his voice back to normal.

You shake your head. Nothing is all right. Everything has gone to shit today, and all of it was your fault. “No-no it’s not,” you whisper, looking away from him. 

“What the hell? Who’s the punk that broke your window Papyrus?” a boisterous female voice yells from the front door. 

Your head whips toward the front entrance and you stare at the tall female monster standing beside the still broken window looking in, her one yellow eye bright with surprise.

“UNDYNE! YOU’RE EARLY,” Paps says, rushing toward the door.

“Of course! I always arrive on time, even if it’s early!” she crows as Papyrus opens the door for her. Her gaze travels up the staircase and rest on you, her one eye widening. “Who the fuck are you?” she asks, barging into the house and heading toward you. 

You shrink against the wall, heart pounding at the sight of the intimidating blue monster stomping angrily toward you. Your breath comes quicker the closer she gets until you’re wheezing, finding it difficult to suck air into your lungs.

“Undyne. Don’t come any closer,” Sans says quietly though you can barely hear him past the rushing sound in your ears.

“Stay outta this Classic,” Red snarls, reaching for you and pulling you toward him, away from Sans and Undyne.

Your breath hitches and you pull against him. His grip only tightens on you, holding you flush on his side. “Let. Me. Go.” you whisper, glaring at him. You don’t want to be near him, near anyone. You need space.

Suddenly, you are ripped from Red’s grip and lifted high into the air. You squeal in surprise, looking down to find yourself in Papyrus’ arms. He slings you over his shoulder, sidestepping Red who stood there dumbfounded, his red eye lights following you, his mouth open.

“What the fuck?” he snarls.

“Paps! What are ya doing bro?” Sans cries.

“TAKING MISS (Y/N) TO A QUIETER PART OF THE HOUSE! CAN’T YOU SEE HOW FRIGHTENED SHE IS?” he shouted over his shoulder, holding you tighter as you lay there, still wheezing slightly in panic.

“P-Paps,” you whimper, clutching to him as he hurried further up the stairs, taking you away from the others. 

“YES MISS (Y/N)?” he asks, slowing a bit but continuing to march down the hall.

“Please p-put me down,” you ask.

Papyrus stops in front of one of the rooms and opens the door, walking over to the bed and setting you down gently. “OF COURSE! I AM SORRY UNDYNE SCARED YOU,” he says, looking down at you with worry in his eye lights. 

You raise your hands, trying to get him to calm down. “Papyrus, please, it’s all right,” you whisper. “I-I’m just, trying not to panic too much. I just-I just need space for a moment.”

“Ya gonna be all right, sweetheart?” Sans asks, appearing in the doorway. 

You can hear yelling coming from downstairs and wonder if it’s Red and Edge fighting with Undyne because of you. “I-,” you start when he shakes his head.

“Naw, I get it. It’s been a rough day for ya. Ya don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he says gently.

“MY BROTHER IS CORRECT HUMAN! I SHALL GO DOWN AND SMOOTH THINGS OVER WITH UNDYNE,” Paps proclaims brightly. Before you can say anything, he turns, passing his brother who steps aside to give him room, and marches out, leaving the two of you alone.

“Sans, I’m sorry,” you whisper into the silence.

“What are ya sorry for?”

“For freaking out, again,” you reply.

Sans sighs, stepping into the room, the door shutting behind him. “Sweetheart, ya have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been through a lot,” he says, sitting beside you on the bed.

“I-I just…wish all of this wasn’t happening,” you whimper, looking down into your lap, your chest beginning to burn. You still find it hard to breathe, so you rub your sternum, trying to relieve the pain as best you can.

You feel Sans’ hand on your arm making you look to him in surprise. “Hey, it’s going to be all right. My brother and I are here for ya. Ya need to talk about anything, just let one of us know,” he says softly, meeting your eyes, his eye lights bright with the truth of his words.

You manage to smile softly at him, nodding slightly. “Thank you Sans. That means a lot to me,” you whisper. You reach for his hand and pat it, trying to show you were feeling better.

“Any time, sweetheart,” he says, turning his hand to hold yours. “Do ya, wanna try coming downstairs in a bit to eat dinner, or do ya want me to bring something up to ya?” he asks.

“C-can I have a moment to settle before I go down?” you ask.

“Of course. I’m gonna go down and let the others know that you are all right,” he states. “Don’t want any of them busting the door down to ask ya themselves,” he mutters. 

You look at him, worried. “Would one of them do that?”

He nods. “Or Undyne would,” he growls lightly.

You flinch at the mention of her, terrified of the blue scaled monster. “I-is she staying for dinner?” you ask.

“Yeah, her and Alphys came over to have an anime marathon,” he answers.

You blink, interest lighting your eyes. “Really?”

Sans looks to you and smiles. “Ya like anime?”

“Like it? More like love it!” you exclaim brightly.

“Heh, well, there’s no better way to bond with the two of them then spending time watching anime together,” Sans says.

You blush, looking down again. “Would they want to after I ran from Undyne?” you wonder.

Sans huffs. “Of course. It wasn’t your fault. Red and Edge pushed ya too far. I’m gonna have firm words with them before I bring ya your dinner,” he says.

“Thank you, Sans.” You offer him a smile as he stands up off the bed and heads for the door.

“Heh, any time kiddo,” he says, with a wave as he pulls open the door and leaves you alone. “I’ll be back in a bit, sweetheart.”

“All right,” you reply simply, watching the back of his skull turn and exit your field of vision. Breathing deeply, you lay back onto the bed, realizing this is a different room than the one you slept in last night. It’s a mirror of the one you were in. You listen to the murmur of voices downstairs, worrying about what they are saying about you. You feel terrible for leaving and not even eating the dinner Blue and Papyrus had worked so hard to make.

And then you felt even worse when you realized that it should have been you making dinner for everyone in the household. It was a part of your job now. You shiver at the thought of the other side of your duties and then pale. _Sans meant for me to do that sort of thing with all of them…didn’t he?_ you think. Red’s angry face and harsh words ring in your ears and you whimper, rolling onto your side, curling into a ball. _I-I can’t do that with him…_ you silently whisper to yourself.


End file.
